Rock and Romance
by sleepingdead
Summary: [AU] What if Eiri was the struggling rock star and Shuichi was the famous romance novelist? Would the two still manage to find each other when they inhabit two different worlds? Yeah, I know. It’s been done before.
1. Chapter 1

Rock and Romance

Summary: AU What if Eiri was the struggling rock star and Shuichi was the famous romance novelist? Would the two still manage to find each other when they inhabit two different worlds?

Notes: Yeah, I know. It's been done before. But those are the best anyway, right? Riiiiiiight…Sure they are. Anyway, unlike most other AU stories, I'm actually opting to keep these guys in character. Whether or not I do is another matter I won't touch. The thing is, I'm not going to be cheap and use the whole, "Well, their pasts are different, so they would be different!" In the age-old argument of nature versus nurture, I'm choosing nature, thank you. Plus I don't see a point in fanfiction if the characters are too far off anyway.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Pairings: Yuki x Shuichi

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: LEMON in this chapter!!! If this offends you, don't read on!

Archived: Fanfiction,net; AdultFanFiction,net; Gurabiteshiyon,net (commas dots, btw… Weird story about uploading for that one…I won't go into it.)

I've been having serious uploading issues lately; in case this uploads oddly anywhere, try the other sites listed above, if you want.

Chapter 1 

"Get up, Eiri! Come on!"

If maybe he had the willpower to comply with his big sister's demand, he would have. He knew he would regret last night, and all those wonderfully numbing drinks he had imbibed, but alas, such were the thoughts that accompanied every hangover. Of course, it would all be fine if he had his own apartment, so he wouldn't have his sister (who was conveniently in love with him enough to allow him to mooch off her) nagging him and only making his fuzzy head hurt even worse.

But then again, it was his own fault. If he had any talent whatsoever, he would have been scouted by now and would be living the high life, rich and famous with millions of beautiful screaming fans throwing themselves at him. Unfortunately that was only a fantasy, and such talent, no matter what everyone who knew him told him, didn't belong to him. And, unfortunately, Eiri was way too stubborn to let go of his music dreams and take up an office job like any normal human being his age would have done by now.

Big sis Mika was cleaning again. He could hear his own recorded voice floating through the thin walls that separated his room from the rest of the house. It made him angry that Mika insisted on playing his CDs. She was only pitying him, and he hated the feeling of weakness it gave him. And, on top of that, his very own music was grating on his nerves. It was annoying him. He knew those songs so well; he was on edge, waiting for himself to make a mistake, as if he would. Beyond that, it was way too full of noise to even be considered music. Although he could possibly blame it on the walls' muffling effects, it seemed as though the guitars blended together too much, and the drums were too pronounced for the mood of the song.

Not only that, but his voice… Well, let's just say he hated the sound of his own voice. He never would have agreed to sing for the band had they not been desperate one night their old lead vocalist, Taki Aizawa, arbitrarily decided to abandon them on the night of their gig. And what hell that had been, since Eiri, former keyboardist, had to completely memorize the words to all their songs in a total of ten minutes before their performance began.

Well, those were all just memories anyway. The reason they had really been in such a frenzy, instead of just canceling, was because there were supposed to be some suits there scouting, but it all proved useless anyway. They didn't get scouted, and, when Eiri's band mates played back the recording of their gig, he decided it was all due to the hideousness of his voice. He had been off key the entirety of the performance, and, especially when compared the fluidity of Taki's voice, his was too deep, too rough, too clashing. So, when he had begun to scout for a new vocalist afterwards, he was not so pleasantly surprised when his band mates informed him that they had every intention of keeping him as lead.

So much for keyboarding. He had really enjoyed that, too, and yet that was rudely assigned away to good old Fujisaki, who snatched away the job like the little rat he was. Just the memory of it brought a growl to Eiri's throat, even as he lay there in all the haziness of hangover.

What sort of life was he leading anyway? In high school he had been dead certain he and his band would make it into stardom, and yet here he was, groaning about all his misery on a cold mattress that didn't belong to him, locked away and smothered by his sister's apartment. Of course, what was he expecting? What sort of sheltered boy who was raised in a conservative Buddhist temple grows up to become a famous rock star?

Damn life and all its unfairness. Alcohol should not come with hangovers.

It was about this time that Eiri finally came to the conclusion that the strange, incessant buzzing noise was actually not in his head, but was in fact his sister's vacuum cleaner. Of course, in his fuzzy stupor, he was only able to come to this conclusion when said vacuum smacked into his wall, making a loud thumping sound. Eiri moaned and rolled over, but when his stomach growled, he gave up.

The trek to the kitchen lasted much longer than it should have, despite that Eiri had zoned out through most of it. And he had stumbled more than once on the way over, irking him with the fact that he had to exert even more energy to keep himself from falling; he was certain, after all, that if he fell, he would never be able to get up again. His hangover was really that bad. He couldn't even remember how much he had drunk (and he didn't even get drunk that easily anyway).

When he finally reached the fridge, he yanked it open and stared into the chilly air, suddenly forgetting what he had intended to find in the huge selection that rested before him. And so, without having an inkling to do otherwise, he just stood there, bent over with his face receiving the brunt of the freezing air, staring into the yellowish glare. It seemed his eyes wandered mostly to the blue Tupperware container that sat on one of the shelves, it's only semi-transparent top showing what looked to be something that slightly resembled spaghetti, except that there were odd bits of green scattered here and there, but the reason his vision focused here was only because that happened to be placed right in the center of his eyesight. He had no intention of eating it. Never.

"Oh, good, you're finally awake!" Mika's voice resonated through the kitchen, sinking itself into Eiri's fuddled brain as if it had nails like the ones on its possessor's fingers.

"What?" Eiri snarled, standing up and glaring at his sister with all the irritation he could muster. However, only a second after he straightened, he was swamped with lightheadedness, and had it not been for the fridge door, he was certain he most likely would have fallen.

"Nice to see you too. What's with you? Did you sleep badly last night?" Mika asked, concern flooding her voice as soon as she noticed the state he was in. She rushed forward, but Eiri's quick retreat stopped her.

"I can't remember," Eiri replied curtly and debated whether to turn back to the fridge again. However, once again, his thoughts fell to the wind, and he merely stood in another daze.

"What…? Were you drinking again?" Mika asked, a hint of chastising in her tone. When Eiri remained silent, it turned to full-fledged anger. "Eiri, damn it! Maybe if you spent your money on decent equipment instead of binge drinking you'd actually have a worthwhile life!"

"Yeah…?"

Mika growled at him. "Fine, well, I had thought you were just sick, but now I'm not going to be so nice. Here's a couple of bucks," this was accompanied with a wad of cash smacking into Eiri's face, "so go get some milk. We're out. And don't you dare spend that on beer."

Eiri growled back at her, a trait that all members of the Uesugi family held, but gathered the money and started out, grabbing a banana on his way. As much as he didn't want to leave the house to go buy milk, of all things, he was more reluctant to stay and be nagged by Mika. Anything was better than her wrath. Eiri wondered when exactly she was going to find some little weakling to marry and become impregnated, so that she might have someone else to bother. He always felt bad for complaining, since she was harboring his pathetic lifestyle, but still…it got old.

The bright summer sun was just another irritation in his already miserable day, and quite a small one at that, compared to a few of the others, namely his hangover and his sister. Frankly, his mind was beginning to numb enough that, not only did his head not hurt quite as much, but also the outside world was beginning to lose its effect on him. Needless to say, he was quite thankful for that, and because of this, he decided that this day could only get better. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips as he thought that, just maybe, he would blow the pathetic amount of money Mika had given him on candy instead, since it was not enough to buy more alcohol. With that thought in mind, he actually managed to make it over to the gas station and pick out a few candy bars, chocolate mostly, and pay for them.

Only after that did he successfully get himself lost.

In all truth, he was actually surprised at his lack of energy and control of his body. He was staggering around as if he were still drunk, and twice he dropped his candy bars. Unfortunately for him, he was sober, and therefore couldn't find any humor in having to bend down and pick them up again. Eventually he gave up when he wandered into a very foreign-looking park. He had absolutely no idea where he was, and he couldn't remember if he ever had had a hangover this bad.

Finding a bench and taking it over for himself, Eiri busied himself sorting his candy. He turned sideways, crossing his legs under him and lining up the candy bars in front of him, careful that the bars wouldn't slip between the gaps of the wooden planks in the bench. He wasn't sure why he was being so ritualistic, but he didn't know where he was, he didn't want to know where he was, and he didn't want to go home, so he pegged it on that. He actually managed to lose himself in ordering the candy according to a variety of patterns, such as size, shape, and color (the latter two being obsolete since they were all pretty much uniform, but that hardly deterred him from wasting his time considering those factors).

He would almost call himself content; that is, until a certain perfect stranger popped out of nowhere and began peering over his shoulder, completely entranced with his candy. Eiri tried to ignore him—he patted himself on the back for the effort—but he still retained remnants of that hangover, despite the soothing effects of candy sorting, and he snapped very quickly.

"What the hell do you want?" Eiri asked slowly, irritably, making sure that there was no doubt in the stranger's mind that he wasn't welcome.

"You're going to eat…all of that?" the stranger asked, and Eiri almost winced at the voice. It was the typical teenaged-boy voice, high and lazy, but something about this voice was even worse. It was probably the hangover—after all, Mika's voice had sounded considerably more grating than usual this morning as well.

"Why wouldn't I?" Eiri retorted. "I wouldn't have wasted money on them otherwise."

"Oh, come on, can't you share one?"

"Not with a total stranger, no. Go buy your own goddamn candy."

There was a brief silence. Eiri guessed the stranger was taken aback by his rudeness, and quite openly hoped that it would drive him away… But today was really not his day. Soon enough, the stranger had rounded the bench and placed himself in Eiri's field of vision. The very first thing Eiri noticed about him was his most obvious trait:

Vivid pink hair. It was almost as bright as the sun, and just as blinding. Eiri immediately pegged him for a flamer—after all, what normal, straight guy has pink hair—and yet, suddenly, his voice really didn't seem so irritating when paired with his body. They just kind of fit. Equally annoying.

"Please?"

For some reason, though, the equation balanced, and in the end…he turned out to be kind of cute. In a little kid sort of way, at least. Especially the way he was begging with those exaggeratedly large puppy dog eyes, it was almost…irresistible.

Resigning with a sigh, Eiri lifted up and tossed a candy bar at the kid, though found his revenge in the way it pelted his forehead with a stinging smack. A small grin tugged at the corner of Eiri's lips at this, but the kid didn't even complain; he merely snatched the candy bar and proceeded to wolf it down, barely pausing to remove its wrapper beforehand.

"What the hell is your problem, anyway? You homeless?" Eiri asked, trying not to sound curious.

"No," the kid replied, licking the chocolate from his fingers. Eiri watched intently as that pink tongue darted back and forth, in and out of the little mouth, devouring his fingers in rapid succession, merciless and sexy. "I really like chocolate bars. Of course, I could have bought my own, like you said, but then I figured, why would I do that, when I could just as easily ask you for one and possibly make a new friend?"

Eiri growled. "Well, you wasted your time, because there's no way in hell I'm going to be your _friend_."

The pink-haired kid laughed, a hearty sound unlike anything Eiri had heard in awhile. "Don't be so negative. Maybe if you had more friends you wouldn't be so annoyed by everything."

"What the hell? You don't even _know_ me!" Eiri barked, his irritation seeping into anger.

The kid laughed again, only making Eiri's anger flare. "Come on, I'm sorry. Calm down. I'm just trying to cheer you up."

Eiri frowned and looked away, his gaze focusing on the green grass that blanketed the majority of the park. The clichéd sound of children's laughter wafted across the scene, adding to its picturesque charm. A soft white butterfly floated across a patch of yellow wildflowers. The cool summer breeze through the trees made a soothing rustle. The bright sun added an extra degree to all the colors, making everything appear bright and contrasted, brilliant in an earthy sort of way. This was not his day, not at all.

"My name's Shuichi. I'm a novelist by trade, actually, and I had writer's block, so I wandered out here in order to enjoy the beautiful day in hopes of curing it. I love days like this—it reminds me of when I was a little kid. I always liked playing outdoors."

How predictable. Eiri's sneer returned to his face. When _he_ was a little kid, he had always been told not to judge people by first impressions, but that was faulty advice. He had never made a first impression that proved untrue. This kid was no exception—he was the perfect little boy, every mother's dream. Shining, happy, nice. He liked to share, to make new friends, to play outside, and to talk. Definitely to talk. Eiri could see why he had become a novelist, boring though the job may be; the kid sure was longwinded.

"And you are…?"

"Eiri," Eiri replied, deciding not to give his last name, since Shuichi hadn't given his. This was a very informal introduction, but nothing about Shuichi seemed more than casual. Besides, Eiri wasn't protesting; he hated his last name, and his father along with it.

"Yeah? How old are you? Are you still in school? Do you have a job?"

He was so eager, so hyper, it was infuriating. Still, Eiri couldn't quite gather the will to get up and leave.

"I'm a musician," Eiri replied curtly, deciding to address only one of the many questions flung at him. "I…play the keyboard, for a band."

Of course, that wasn't true. Not any more. Now he sang for a band, but he wasn't going to admit that. He wasn't proud of it. Besides, the curse of that was that he always had his instrument—his voice—with him, and knowing a pest like Shuichi would ask him to demonstrate. It was best to avoid that little subject there.

"Really? That's so cool!" Shuichi cried, bouncing a little on the bench. "Are you famous? Would I know the band?"

"No."

Despite all the irritation in the reply, it didn't deter Shuichi. "You know, when I was in high school, I always wanted to be in a band. I wanted to be the lead singer. But I was always better at writing, so I ended up going down that road—I'm glad though. I really like my job. I guess you could say I'm kind of well known… I mean, my books have been selling pretty well. I write romance novels…" He trailed off with a blush at that statement, and looked up at Eiri guiltily, eliciting a raised eyebrow from the latter.

"What?" Eiri asked apprehensively. The kid was nuts.

"Nothing!" Shuichi replied immediately, and leaned backwards. "Umm, well. I just thought you were really cool…when I saw you sitting here…"

"What does that have to do with romance novels…?" Eiri started, but cut himself off as soon as realization hit. Damn, he really had a knack for attracting other men. If Tatsuha ever got wind of this, he'd never hear the end of it. "Stupid brat. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to fall in love with strangers?" He considered tagging the word "fag" to the end of the sentence, but decided not to. That word was too harsh. And…it wasn't like he'd never done it before either.

"Love?" Shuichi repeated with a dumb expression on his face. "No, no, it's not that! I mean…I like you and all, but…"

"So what were you getting at?" Eiri asked, feeling almost relieved, but still quite worried that Shuichi was only taking back his words out of embarrassment. The blush had yet to leave the pink-haired kid's cheeks, anyway.

"It's nothing, really. I was just kinda looking for something…not so scheduled, you know? My life's kind of fallen into this routine, and, today especially, I was getting bored."

"And…?"

"And what?"

"What does that have to do with me?"

The blush darkened on Shuichi's face, and Eiri feared the worst. "Nothing. I'm just…trying to explain why I sought you out. Because I was bored…"

"Oh," Eiri muttered, and let out a sigh. Yep, definitely the worst. But, then again, the kid was almost luscious, in a way.

"So, what…what are you doing out here today?" Shuichi asked, a fake smile plastered across his face. He was still stumbling over his words, though, trying to recover from his falter.

"I went out to buy milk for my sister, got lost, bought some candy instead, and started being harassed by some really annoying stranger." He shot a smirk at Shuichi with this statement, who received it with darkened eyes.

"You're lost?"

Damn… He was not going to get rid of the pink-haired kid any time soon. He could just picture the brat following him home like a lost little puppy, and Mika telling him that he couldn't keep it because they weren't allowed to have pets in the apartment.

"Yeah."

Shuichi stared at him for a moment, though it was almost like a wistful gaze, before snapping out of it. "Why don't you have lunch with me? My treat."

Eiri paused, considering his options. On one hand, he would get a free meal, and probably a nice one at that, but would have to deal with the incessant little brat. On the other hand was a pretty good meal at home…with Mika…

"All right," Eiri said in an almost rushed voice. "Sure."

A huge grin crossed Shuichi's face, and he hugged his knees to his chest in what appeared to be seething excitement. "Okay! Good! We just have to stop by my place to pick up some money… Hope you don't mind; it's not too far. Come on!" And with a burst of excitement, he grabbed Eiri's hand and dragged him all the way there.

Shuichi's apartment wasn't too extravagant, but it was large compared to the standard poor-man's one-roomed, six-mat apartment. The floors were mostly covered with a yellowish-brown carpet, and littered with miscellaneous junk, such as articles of clothing and sheets of paper. There were several shut doors leading into who knows what kind of rooms, though one was open revealing a littered bedroom with a queen-sized unmade bed and walls papered in posters. Overall, it was a pretty nice place, Eiri had to admit. Or, at least, Mika's place was nothing in comparison.

"Sorry it's so messy," Shuichi said, flicking on a lamp despite the beams of sunlight piercing their way into the apartment. "Um, it'll only be a minute. Make yourself at home, I guess."

Eiri decided to take Shuichi's advice and proceeded to kick a very used looking shirt off a somewhat clean side of the sofa that was pushed against the wall adjacent to the kitchen. He sat down and folded his arms, finding it almost amusing that the little pink-haired brat was taking residence in his thoughts—he mostly blamed the hangover, though quite irrationally, since he could hardly feels its effects at all anymore. Still, he was rather amused at the kid's antics; though he seemed so normal and perfect, such sanity was hard to come by these days, especially in the clubs that Eiri frequented with his band.

Plus, he hadn't been laid in a while. He actually found himself avoiding it lately—the painted Goth girls at the clubs were dirty, with men constantly hanging off them. He didn't want to even think about how many diseases they were carrying. Besides, most of them were ugly and didn't know how to properly apply the raccoon-eye makeup on top of that. Thus said, an incredibly innocent, clean, and interesting little brat seemed like a pretty decent choice, even if he was annoying. And a guy.

Eiri almost choked at that thought. God, what was he thinking? Why had that thought taken so frickin' long to occur to him? He hadn't been with another guy for…

"Here you go, some coffee! I hope it's good; it's that instant stuff. I usually don't drink coffee, so I wouldn't know," Shuichi said, prancing into the living room and clutching a steaming mug happily in his hands. He had a silly grin scribbled on his face, thought he immediately wiped it away when he looked at Eiri. "Are you okay? You look kinda pale…more than usual…"

Eiri blinked up at him and immediately collected himself, forcing an irritated look back onto his face. "I'm fine. What the hell's wrong with _you_? I thought we were going out… What's with the coffee?"

Shuichi looked almost guilty as he glanced down at the mug sadly. He stood in a stiff silence for a while before letting out a pathetic whimper. "I thought…it'd be polite…that maybe you'd want some…but if you don't…it's okay…you know…"

Eiri rolled his eyes and muttered, "Shut up, idiot, and give it to me."

Shuichi looked a little hurt, staring innocently up at him with guilty puppy eyes, as he set the mug gently in Eiri's hands. Eiri heaved a sigh, fearing the worst, and took a gulp, forcing himself not to wince at the horrible bitterness. Honestly, it tasted like tin! No coffee tasted like this, even if it was cheap and old. Shuichi had probably added poison, or something.

"It's…good…" Eiri managed, not quite sure why he was trying to be so tactful. His answer became clear, though, when he noticed how much brighter Shuichi's face became with his compliment, reminding him of some of his previous thoughts.

"I'm glad. I'm really not good at making things, so generally I let…" he trailed off, his face once again donning a look of guilt.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just, uh…" He blushed and timidly placed himself next to Eiri on the sofa after quickly scraping some nameless junk onto the floor. "Umm…"

Eiri resisted the urge to roll his eyes again—Mika told him he did it too often anyway—and stared down at the nervous boy next to him. Shuichi seemed to be refusing to look at him, with his head lowered and his eyes glued to the floor, his lips pursed forward in a decadent pout… Eiri chided himself again and snatched the boy's chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"What the hell do you want? You're so weird," Eiri said, his voice hushed almost to a whisper. He did it subconsciously, though after he realized it, he remembered how one of his previous lovers had told him that it was sexy. His frown creased deeper into his face as he lowered his eyes ever so slightly.

"I-It's nothing, really," Shuichi stuttered, his eyes growing impossibly large. "I, I mean, you… I just, just thought…"

Eiri's will shattered, and he rushed forward, crushing his lips onto Shuichi's. He was excited by the sharp gasp that escaped past the young author's lips into his own mouth as he forced his tongue inside, and a tiny grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth as he felt Shuichi relax in his arms. He almost moaned when Shuichi's various limbs slid and locked around him for support. Eiri placed a hand behind Shuichi's head, weaving his fingers through the pink strands, and used this leverage to force his kiss deeper, digging into Shuichi's mouth and biting at his deliciously swollen lips; he could barely stand it when Shuichi's hips thrust against his own, exciting further his already growing arousal. He finally broke the kiss to let out a seething groan, but barely halted before returning to his ministrations, now moving down Shuichi's neck with soft kisses and gentle nips. He could feel the muscles of Shuichi's back flexing and slithering as the novelist squirmed in his tight grasp—just with these movements, Eiri could tell that this was going to be good. Shuichi was flushed and moaning, obviously barely able to stand the torture that Eiri was inflicting upon him; with every little caress, he leaned away, but Eiri only leaned deeper into him, trying to burying himself in the boy's embrace. As a result, they were quickly losing a battle with gravity.

It took all of Eiri's willpower to stop his work on Shuichi to hurriedly brush the last of the crap onto the floor before he shoved the kid into the cushions of the couch. Eiri was quick to crawl on top of the lithe novelist, straddling him and feeling the peak of all his shame, before dipping forward and returning to the job. He once again felt the soft, un-calloused hands find their place back on his body, sliding around and venturing their way under his clothing. He could feel every heavy breath of the novelist beneath him, every squirm, every spasm, every movement. He could feel the tension born from Shuichi's excitement spreading throughout the novelist's body and crawling its way into his own, breeding butterflies in his stomach as he momentarily leaned away to gaze upon the flushed, lustful expression on Shuichi's face. He couldn't wait any longer upon the sight of that, and immediately began to tear away at both their clothes, becoming frustrated despite the rapidity of which he was discarding them.

He wasn't sure what it was about Shuichi, but he had _never_ wanted anyone this bad. He had never been this eager for sex with anyone before. However, he had no time, nor patience, to ponder this—Shuichi was sprawled out on his back, his legs spread around Eiri's waist, deliciously nude and begging Eiri with his sharp gasps. Eiri stared at Shuichi's face, memorizing every little detail, every little perfect aspect of it, in all its contorted pleasure, before squeezing his eyes shut and thrusting hard into him.

The scream that followed was so shrill and ear shattering that Eiri could hardly believe it came from the boy wrapped around him. He felt Shuichi's arms jerk him downwards until he landed roughly on Shuichi's stomach. He could tell Shuichi was in pain, that he should wait, but he couldn't stop himself, he didn't have the _strength_ to. Sliding his own arms under Shuichi's shoulders for leverage, he began to thrust his hips forward into that luscious hole, desperately trying to ignore the guilt that the tears trailing down Shuichi's cheeks inspired. With each thrust came a pained gasp from Shuichi, and yet the novelist did nothing to stop Eiri; instead, he wrapped his legs even tighter around Eiri's waist and bucked his hips up to meet every thrust. Eiri couldn't tell if it was just habit, if the novelist had just been trained that well for sex, or if he was actually enjoying the pain that Eiri had no doubt bestowed upon him, but in either case, he was making the entire experience pleasurably titanic for Eiri.

The entire world disappeared around them, leaving only Eiri, Shuichi, and the old couch that creaked loudly with each thrust. The butterflies in Eiri's stomach had yet to leave—they were only multiplying as he tried harder and harder each time to bury himself deeper into Shuichi. His thoughts, his cares, all of reality drained away from his mind, and all he could see was Shuichi beneath him, crying and gasping in pleasure and pain, trying to invite him deeper as Eiri tried to follow. He could feel the butterflies fluttering around, multiplying again and again, so rapidly that pretty soon there were so many of them that he couldn't breathe anymore; he felt Shuichi clench beneath him and cry out, and this was followed by a fluid warmth that covered his front, and then continued to flow around him, submerging his body and drowning him with all his ecstasy. He felt his own body tighten, his nails digging into Shuichi's shoulders, as he tried to dive inside Shuichi in one last gallant attempt, and his entire body joined in his plight, emptying all of his insides into the smaller man's embrace.

Eiri stayed, perched uncertainly above Shuichi, for a few moments until the world began to flood back into his senses. He collapsed on top of Shuichi, the sofa squeaking in protest, and buried his face in the hollow of the boy's shoulder, releasing a pent-up sigh as he did so. Shuichi wrapped his arms around him in something that resembled a hug more than an embrace, and placed a soft kiss on the top of Eiri's head, burying his nose in the gentle aroma of sex that was wafting from the tousled golden locks.

"That was…" Shuichi started, but trailed off as he found that he had no word to describe it. His own speechlessness surprised him—as a romance novelist, he was used to describing this sort of thing—but what he had just experienced, "incredible" only brushed some dirt off the surface.

Eiri shifted above him, savoring the gentle daze of the afterglow while it lasted. Thoughts of his hangover and his horrible day were erased from his mind as he lay there, smiling a real smile for the first time in what felt like years. He didn't even try to describe that, as Shuichi had. That wasn't just sex, as he had anticipated. It was more than that, but Eiri couldn't quite figure out what had given it that something extra. His sexual frustration, his dissatisfaction with reality, his fascination with Shuichi… All of them seemed likely candidates, and yet, they didn't quite complete the picture.

It was over now, though, and the glow was quickly fading. He didn't want to be there when it was gone. Silently thanking Shuichi for the ride as he pushed himself weakly off the couch, he tried to ignore the imploring expression on the novelist's face. Eiri quickly began to gather his clothes and had completely redressed before he even dared to make eye contact with the smaller man; when he did, a wave of apprehension washed over him, but, unable to discern its origin, he quickly shoved it back into the recesses of his mind where it could be ignored.

"Eiri, I…" Shuichi started, a blush reddening his still flushed cheeks even more.

"Thanks, kid," Eiri muttered, making his way towards the exit to the front hallway. He stopped at the doorframe and paused to look at Shuichi. "It was fun. So much for lunch."

"Wait!" Shuichi called as Eiri turned back towards the exit, successfully stopping the blonde. "You're going…?"

Eiri heaved a sigh, reluctantly accepting his responsibility. "Look, that was a one-time thing, okay? I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again. I don't want to see you again. You weren't that good anyway." He glanced back at Shuichi, forcing himself to ignore the horrified look written across the latter's features. "Okay?" he added, quirking an eyebrow, before waltzing his way out of the apartment, swinging the door closed behind him with a resonating slam.

As he tried to find a way back home, finally devouring the candy bars he had stored in his pockets as a substitute for lunch, he worked his hardest to keep his mind blank, and, although he failed quite miserably, he only hoped that the strange pink-haired brat would quit pestering his thoughts soon, or else he would really get angry.

TBC…

Notes: Kinda a set-up chapter, but I like it. I suppose it's not the best for a first chapter…You know, that whole thing about "You have to draw in your readers at the very beginning…" Whatever. I hate writing essays anyway.

I hope the lemon was okay? Not good for fanfiction net, I suppose…x.x If it offends anyone, tell me and I'll take it down or edit it or something. Besides, I was careful not to use any 'explicit' words, instead of 'suggestive' words, so…I think an R rating's okay. Right? Besides, this is Gravitation.

Actually, this is my first Gravi lemon, I just realized… Hmm, in all the time I've been writing Gravi, and in all the time I've been writing lemons, you would think…ah well. I hope you enjoyed.

Until next time,

Cassi.


	2. Chapter 2

Rock and Romance

Summary: AU What if Eiri was the struggling rock star and Shuichi was the famous romance novelist? Would the two still manage to find each other when they inhabit two different worlds? 

Warnings: Weird pairing, but never fear! It won't last. x.x

Archived: adultfan,nexcess,net/aff/story,php?no544173771 ; fiction,gurabiteshiyon,net/story,php?no722 ; www,fanfiction,net/s/2199767/1/

Chapter 2

It was nearly suppertime when Eiri finally made it home; he was still irked with the memory of trying to make his way back to the house without any money. It had been an insult to his masculinity when he had been forced to stoop as low as asking directions from a cop at the nearest police box, but at least he had gotten home. However, now, not only did he have a _very_ angry Mika snarling at him, but he still could not get the pink-haired Shuichi off his mind—it had not turned out to be the casual one-night stand as he had intended, and that only made the developing situation worse.

"Where the hell were you?" Mika demanded, her face contorted into a vicious glare. "I sent you out four hours ago for a carton of milk! What were you doing? Where did you go? And why didn't you get the milk? In the four hours you were out, you couldn't spend five minutes picking up a carton?"

"I'm sorry. I got lost and spent the money on food instead," Eiri replied. It wasn't completely a lie, at least, and he would have been able to force sincerity if he had the desire; however, the bored, unapologetic tone only set Mika off.

"You were lost for four hours? How the hell does a grown man get so lost on his way to the corner gas station that it takes him four hours to get home? Now tell me what you were really doing!'

Eiri narrowed his eyes, and a smirk twisted its way onto his face. "If you must know, I was getting laid. And it was more like three and a half hours, not four."

Mika's eyes narrowed so much that it was doubtful she could even see out between her black mascara-laced eyelashes. Her blood red lips stretched downwards, creasing her skin and making her look the near thirty-year-old that she was.

The two stood, Eiri receiving Mika's glare with his own haughty smirk, in silence for what seemed like forever. Only when Eiri let out a subdued, "Heh," did Mika finally snap.

"That's it! I'm sick of your shit! You're twenty-one years old; maybe if you had to live on your own, you'd make something decent of yourself!" She paused, basking in Eiri's confused expression for a few seconds before continuing. "I'll help you pack your stuff, and that's the last you'll get from me."

"You're not serious," Eiri stated confidently, his smirk finding its place back on his face.

A few hours later, Eiri found himself wandering aimlessly down a sidewalk, the whole of his measly belongings stuffed into his keyboard case that was loosely slung over his shoulder. He had a total of 1000 yen stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, and that was all. As he looked up the street at all the reasonably sized apartment buildings, he could only find himself surprised.

He came upon a bookstore soon, and on a whim he glanced at the books on display—and found himself completely repulsed when he noticed two horribly familiar purple eyes staring straight back at him. The bright smile, transformed into two dimensions, screamed at him:

"What a failure you are, Eiri! What a failure!" 

Eiri frowned at the picture, as if that would make it wilt and curl into ashes, just like that. His eyes wandered down to the huge pink boldface type outlined in gaudy purple that, without even reading it, Eiri could see that it just screamed for the world to hear, "I'm gay! I'm GAY!" Sadly enough, he knew from experience that it was true.

"New paperback edition of _Rose_ by the hot new romance novelist Shindou Shuichi! Get your copy today; only 850 yen!"

Eiri stared at the last figure, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth as he fingered the 1000-yen note in his pocket. He knew it would be the worst decision he could make, impulse-buying a stupid romance novel written by just some fleeting infatuation of his, especially since this was the last of his money, but the urge was too great, and he caved, cursing himself all the while. Pushing open the door to the bookstore, he thought to himself that he'd better pick up a job application while he was here if he ever wanted to eat anytime soon.

"I'm home!" Sakano cried out, slipping off his shoes and jacket in one fluid movement. He stepped onto the hardwood floor of the hallway that led into the living room and paused only briefly to hang up his coat before following it. His brow furrowed when he noticed that everything that was once on the couch had been shoved to the floor—it was a long time since he had seen that couch in its entirety, without any junk adorning one of its many surfaces. Sakano himself usually hated mess; however, Shuichi did not seem capable of cleaning up after himself, and after living with the kid for several months, Sakano began to let himself go. It was good for him, anyway, he supposed. It helped his stress to just relax every once in awhile and not worry about cleaning. Or course, sometimes Shuichi was so excessively lazy and dirty that Sakano became annoyed, but that was usually only rarely.

Still, this suddenly cleared couch was strange, even though Sakano could tell that all the junk had only been pushed to the floor. No matter, Shuichi must have been using it for something. Stranger than that, Sakano decided, was that the bedroom door was shut—Shuichi usually insisted that they have it open, claiming that the air didn't stale if they did.

Feeling a wave of foreboding cross over him, Sakano silently pushed open the bedroom door, frowning when he saw the skinny frame of his boyfriend curled up beneath the sheets, shaking every now and then from sobs. Quickly, Sakano wracked his brain for a reason why Shuichi would be so upset, but after coming up with only a blank, he dared to suffer the possible repercussions and softly asked his boyfriend what was the matter.

At the sound of his voice, Shuichi shot up, tossing his sheets down to his knees and exposing his nude body, which brought an exaggerated blush to Sakano's face. He looked away immediately, completely missing the horrified expression that crossed Shuichi's face when he did so.

"Did something happen today that upset you, Shuichi?" Sakano asked in a tight voice, still refusing to look at Shuichi. Only more tears came to Shuichi's eyes with this, but he merely let them fall and did his best to bite back his sobs.

"No," he said in what was obviously a lie; even his spacey boyfriend could tell.

"Tell me what happened," Sakano said in a soothing voice, but his refusal to look at Shuichi negated what effects it may have had.

Shuichi paused, staring wistfully at the white sheets pooled around his legs. He heaved a sigh, slowly looking up at his disheveled boyfriend.

"Can you come here?" Shuichi whispered, trying to disregard the way Sakano seemed to choke at his request. With a very nervous air, Sakano complied and tensely made his way over to stiffly place himself in front of Shuichi.

"What is it?"

Shuichi paused again, readying himself with a deep breath, before lunging forward, locking his arms and legs around Sakano's body, and pressing their lips together in what he was hoping would be a hard, passionate kiss. Against his will, Shuichi immediately began to see visions of golden eyes and hair, and he quickly forced his eyes open to stop it.

The kiss ended abruptly when Sakano pulled away timidly and stared at Shuichi wide-eyed. "Shu…ichi…" he started, but Shuichi didn't dare let him finish.

Shuichi thrust himself backwards, dragging Sakano on top of him before reaching out for another kiss. He waited a few moments for Sakano to join in, but soon got frustrated and took the initiative himself, plunging his tongue into Sakano's mouth and trying to pull Sakano even deeper into him.

Once again, he had the fleeting image of the devilish golden eyes before snapping his own eyes open—he hadn't even realized he had closed them. Guilt seeped into his conscience, but he quickly busied himself with ignoring it by moving to strip off Sakano's clothes. Unfortunately for him, that was what was needed to excite the anxiety in Sakano enough for him to pull away.

"Shuichi…what are you…?"

Shuichi blinked at him, hoping his face relayed how little he thought of that question. His fist closed around the collar of Sakano's suit, pulling Sakano weakly down again.

"Come on," Shuichi whispered. "We never do this…"

"But last time," Sakano said, pulling back as Shuichi pulled him forward.

"Forget about last time!" Shuichi cried, furrowing his brows and glaring somewhat wistfully at him. "This is this time! Let's give it another try! Please!"

Sakano's hand found its way onto Shuichi's fist and proceeded to pry it from his collar. Shuichi fought him for only a second before giving up. He let go, allowing Sakano to sit up completely, and brought his hand to his eyes, which were once again rapidly gathering tears.

"I'm sorry, Shuichi," Sakano said, frowning sympathetically at his boyfriend. "I know you want to, but…"

Shuichi choked on a sob, which rocketed him into tears. He began to wipe them away as soon as they came, but Sakano's presence only made them come even faster.

"I'm sorry," Sakano said, and then stood, removing himself from Shuichi's touch and pretending that he didn't notice Shuichi's tears. He paused, staring at the pink-haired novelist for a long while in debate before heaving a sigh and continuing, "I'm sorry. I really am, but you understand…" He was greeted only by another sob. "Look, I'm going to J.P.'s Nightclub tomorrow night to see if I can scout a band we've been hearing about for NG. Seguchi can't make it, so he's sending me. How would you like to come? It'll be fun!"

Shuichi wiped a pair of tears from his cheeks and looked dolefully up at Sakano, letting the latter squirm in an anxious anticipation until Shuichi was completely satisfied with the amount suffered. Wiping another tear away, Shuichi breathed one last sigh before blinking and looking back down at the sheets rippling around his ankles. "All right," he whispered barely audibly, and then in one quick, jerky movement, grabbed the sheets and flung them over his body, finally hiding it from unworthy eyes. "Now go. I want to sleep," he said coldly, and waited until the door clicked shut before breaking down into sobs again. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of something else, but it was no use.

He couldn't get those enticing golden eyes out of his mind.

"Will you quit bellyaching? If you had come to practice yesterday instead of ditching us, you would have known!" Midori Ryotarou, one of the two guitarists of Bad Luck, growled, snarling at Eiri from behind his thick yellow tresses.

"He's right, you know, Eiri," Fujisaki joined, calmly crossing his arms and letting out a sigh. "We've been practicing this song forever, anyway. So what if it's short notice? J.P.'s pretty classy. It'll do well for our reputation. I have a feeling we should take this job. Unless you want to play at dirty little joints forever."

"'Take this job?'" Eiri repeated, lifting a quizzical eyebrow. He glanced at their surroundings as if to prove a point. "I think we've already taken it. We start in ten minutes."

"Well, at least this time you don't have to memorize an entire song in that amount of time," Fujisaki muttered, bringing a bitter smile to Eiri's lips with the memory. "If we ever want to get noticed by the big guys, we have to stick our necks out."

"Whatever," Eiri shrugged, placing a hand on the microphone that sat at his side. "You know I'm going to do it anyway."

Fujisaki grinned, and then returned to setting up his keyboard—Eiri's keyboard, actually. This used to bother Eiri, that he was forced to sing when he was the one that owned the equipment, but he had grown used to it lately; as much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to like singing, and not only because a whole lot of the girls in the audiences came to notice him more since he was in the spotlight. He actually had never sung before—not seriously, at least—and once he learned how, he couldn't stop. It wasn't the same as that first night when Taki had ditched them; he was better now. He could sing with emotion and meaning, and he knew it.

That's not to say that he liked his voice, though. Singing was okay, but listening to himself afterwards was a no-no.

Eiri looked over the crowd in the club—it wasn't too busy, which had both pros and cons, but that didn't matter anyway. He noticed several pairs of eyes watching intently as he and his band mates set up. Unfortunately, this club didn't have a formal stage or curtains, and the simple raised platform they stood upon revealed all the messy preparations to the spectators. It was mildly annoying, being watched like that, especially for Eiri since he didn't have much equipment and therefore usually spent most of the time standing stupidly onstage with nothing to do. However, he liked to be able to see the audience early on. It felt good to have cute, wide, feminine eyes staring at him as if he were the most interesting creature on Earth.

"You ready?" Fujisaki asked, glancing up at Eiri nervously. Eiri nodded, as did the two guitarists.

Eiri smirked at his band mates before turning around and grabbing the mic, gaining a few impatient cheers from the expectant onlookers.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, speaking into the mic and scanning the crowd briefly with his sharp yellow eyes, not at all put out by the fact that the lights were blurring his vision. He knew it would clear soon enough, and he'd be able to see faces. "We are Bad Luck. We will be performing our original song, _Rage Beat_. Please enjoy."

In one flawless beat, the music started, the guitars and keyboard all syncing instantly. The intro was rapid, and Eiri reached for the mic, anxiously awaiting his cue.

Two more measures to go.

His eyes locked onto the crowd as he pulled the mic to his mouth, preparing to start with a deep breath. One and two and three and four…

A fleeting vision of purple eyes crossed his mind, and when he realized that he had not imagined them, he choked. His cue passed and he barely noticed, focusing all of his attention on the boy sitting towards the back of the club, slumped over on a stool by the bar and staring at him with eyes equally wide.

Eiri blinked and shook his head, trying to quash the horrible fit of anxiety that was rising in his throat. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to sing, and the music was quickly circling around again. Eiri squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on the music.

I told you we'd never see each other again… You idiot… 

His cue came faster than he had expected with his attention divided. His voice jumped in half a beat too late and slightly off-key, and in his nervousness, his tight throat made the notes screech, flustering him even more. At last the pink-haired brat left his mind as he did his best to catch up with the music, jumping forward seconds here and there until finally he was singing in time again. His voice, however, was still weak.

_"You don't know anything, Eiri. Here, this is how it's done."_

Sing like me.

Eiri's eyes floated open, but he wasn't looking at anything in his surroundings. He could see, with every detail plain as day, outlined in black, the entire scene playing out before him. An old lover, brown hair and blue eyes, standing high on the stage, his head cocked to the side and a small microphone pressed against his lips. A voice as sweet as honey and as pure as diamond sending chills down his spine while Eiri watched as if hypnotized.

"This is love… I'll show you…" 

The blue eyes gently widened and smiled, slowly morphing into deep, illustrious violet, far more intense than they had ever been in their previous life. "Come on, come on," they whispered, their breathy music drowning out his lover's song.

Eiri's mouth opened wide, and a crystal clear note sailed forth, eliciting a collective gasp from the audience. If his lips hadn't been so preoccupied with articulation, Eiri would have smiled. At last he had made it. He stood on the stage, his microphone held relatively far from his lips and his head pulled back and to the side, his eyes staring straight through the ceiling at the night sky, as he sang with every ounce of breath in his lungs.

_Who's the failure, Shuichi? Watch this._

One and two and three and four and…

"I'll show you how it's done…" 

Kitazawa Yuki. Eiri had idolized him so much that he had become a lover against his own will. Kitazawa, his teacher, could sing like a god, and knew everything there was to know about music. His voice was as soft as silk and as rich as gold, and everything about him was perfect.

It was the difference of their voices that put Eiri off. They would never be equal. He could hone his technique to professional status, but he would never be better than Kitazawa. The man was unsurpassable.

The song was quick, and Eiri could feel the end approaching swiftly; he charged towards it with all his might, breathing the last note until his lungs gave out, and waiting, glowing, until the music died as well. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and his head was reeling—he stood perfectly still, waiting until the dizziness faded away.

"Eiri, are you all right?" he heard someone ask—presumably one of his band mates—but his eyes remained glued to the solitary stool in front of the bar towards the back of the club, finding himself disappointed that it now was empty.

That idiot… 

TBC

Notes: I got a lot of reviews (or at least a couple) saying that this has been done before. And, I say again, I know. I've read five or six stories with this general plotline, so I figured it was one of those un-originals up for grabs. Sorry if you feel like I'm in the wrong for stealing someone's idea, but in all honesty, I _am_ stealing my plotline. Everyone who writes at this site is stealing plotlines. After all, look at all these fan fictions that are 'favorites' among most readers. You know, those stories that rack up like, 300 reviews. Ignore all the fancy writing and look at the basic plot. I bet a lot of them have been done before. Besides, the whole idea of fan fiction is based on unoriginality. I mean, we're taking _someone else's _characters and _someone else's _story and just adding on to it. I'm not condoning plagiarism, or anything, but I do think that readers should take into consideration the near impossibility of writing something that's actually "never been done before" in a situation such as this. To find true originality, I suggest going to an original fiction site. What I'm trying to say is, in this story, I'm not trying to wow people with my unique plotline, but instead I'm focusing more on the romance of Yuki and Shu and trying to make it interesting through my writing techniques. I hope you understand.

On a lighter note, what do you think of the Sakano x Shu pairing? Because, if you want to know the truth, I don't like it. Not a bit. It's basically a plot device, which is probably quite obvious. I was originally thinking of making it Tohma x Shu, but…as I learned from my attempt at writing Tohma x Shu in _Second Choice_, I really can't see those two together in a functional relationship. Thus, I decided early on to make it Sakano. He kinda fits better anyway, don't you think? I don't think Tohma would be so…weak…

Anyway, was Eiri hallucinating there? …It's a little confusing.

Until next time,

Cassi.

P.S. Has Fanfiction Net stopped emailing about reviews, or is it just not getting through to my account? Because I haven't been notified about any of the reviews at this site…


	3. Chapter 3

Rock and Romance

Warnings: Very bad sexual stuff (to say any more than that would give it away)

Archived: http:adultfan,nexcess,net/aff/story,php?no544173771 ; http:fiction,gurabiteshiyon,net/story,php?no722 ; http:www,fanfiction,net/s/2199767/1/

We're backing up a little here and watching the performance from Shuichi's side.

Chapter 3 

"It's a pretty nice place, as far as clubs go, don't you think?" Sakano said, breathing in the only slightly smoky air proudly.

"Yeah…" Shuichi replied, his shoulders hunched and his eyes stuck to the floor.

"You know, this band was pretty hard to track down. It was sheer luck that I happened to think to ask the bartender if they were playing here," Sakano said.

"Yeah…"

Sakano glanced at his smaller boyfriend through the corner of his eye, but otherwise pretended that Shuichi's low mood didn't affect him. "They're called 'Bad Luck.' Isn't that kind of funny, considering what good luck has brought us to them?"

"Yeah…"

"Of course, I'm not entirely sure that they're good enough. It may just be hype, you know. But I'm looking forward to it, nonetheless."

"Yeah…"

Sakano sighed, but didn't comment. He led Shuichi towards the bar, and leaned against it, watching as his little boyfriend crawled heavily onto the stool beside him. Shuichi slumped forward immediately, placing his hands on the edge of the cushion between his thighs and letting his head drop forward so that his pink hair shadowed most of his face.

"I noticed you haven't written anything for awhile, Shuichi," Sakano said, his voice flooded with a great deal of concern that had been absent in his earlier conversation.

"Yeah."

"Shuichi," Sakano said, his voice evaporating into an apprehensive whisper. He leaned towards Shuichi, nervously glancing around as if to make sure no one was looking. "You know I'm sorry about…what happened…"

Shuichi pouted and slumped even further forward. "You could have at least tried."

Sakano let out a shaky breath and crossed his arms. "I'm sorry. I was… You know me, Shuichi."

"How can you expect anything to get better if you never try anything different?" Shuichi cried, frowning up at his boyfriend. Sakano lifted his brows, seemingly afraid of Shuichi's anger. He loosened his tie and glanced towards the stage.

"Look, I said I was sorry."

"But you never promised anything different, so you must not be really sorry," Shuichi muttered, giving up and looking back down to the floor.

"Shuichi, come on! I—"

A deep voice suddenly came over the speakers, cutting Sakano short. Both he and Shuichi looked up at the stage, and the latter froze when he laid eyes upon the man at the microphone—it was none other than the very person he had been thinking about nonstop since their encounter…the person he had never expected to see again.

"Good evening, everyone. We are Bad Luck. We will be performing our original song, _Rage Beat_. Please enjoy."

Short and sweet, and said with the usual frown adorning those perfect lips. Shuichi stared, appalled, with his face stricken white and his features tensed into a horrified expression.

_No, no! Not here! Not with Sakano!_

Shuichi glanced up at his boyfriend with a guilty look, almost thankful that Sakano hadn't seen his face. As much as he tried to fight it, though, Shuichi found his eyes instinctively falling back to the stage, where stood his unrealistically sexy lover adorned in tight black leather that fit his body unacceptably nicely. Shuichi's mouth watered as he drank in the sight: long legs shining with leather, short black shirt that allowed a strip of white skin to show gorgeous slenderness, and silky blond hair that reflected the lights in a manner that made it look like a golden halo.

Shuichi tore his eyes away. God, he had forgotten how hot Eiri really was! It had only been a day since the incident, and yet Shuichi had spent so much time pining that it seemed like so much longer.

Eiri hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet; if he had, then he didn't have a reaction, but Shuichi hoped that wasn't the case. Shuichi watched Eiri stand coolly on the stage, his head cocked to the side with one hand resting on the microphone as the music started; his lips were pursed, and he looked ready to start singing.

Shuichi did a double take. Singing? He shook his head. Hadn't Eiri told him that he was a keyboardist? Shuichi's eyes wandered to the other band members behind Eiri, stopping when he saw a short, black-haired boy surrounded by a fancy looking synthesizer. Had Eiri lied to him? But why?

Shuichi's gaze returned to Eiri, watching intently, almost obsessively, as the latter moved to grab the microphone. Shuichi saw those golden eyes flash over the crowd and was taken by surprise when they stopped on him. Even more surprising was the way Eiri's cool demeanor crumbled in the blink of an eye, and he stood, staring wildly like a deer in headlights at Shuichi.

So he hadn't seen me after all… 

When Eiri's voice joined the music, even Shuichi, who knew little to nothing about music, could tell he was off. It was almost amusing to watch Eiri struggle as he did; if the situation was different, Shuichi may have even smiled.

Sakano released a disappointed groan, catching Shuichi's attention. Shuichi looked up at him quizzically.

"I guess it was all hype," Sakano said with a defeated shrug. He looked about ready to leave when suddenly a clear voice, nothing less than beautiful, resounded throughout the club, putting a halt to all the dancers and drawing everyone's attention back to the stage. Shuichi studied Eiri, his mouth dropping open at the change; Eiri had become cool again. He stood, his eyes closed lightly, his head thrown back, pouring his voice into the microphone in an awesome show. Shuichi watched, biting his upper lip, as Eiri's hand slowly, seductively traced down his own waist, but Shuichi's eyes traveled beyond the hand and down the hips, past the groin and those sexy thighs, all the way to his boots and then back up again until they finally came to rest on his perfect face.

Shuichi licked his lips and felt a tightening in his own groin; quickly he leaned forward, covering his thighs with his upper body, thankful that Sakano was so entranced with the performance that he didn't notice.

The deep voice rang out again, and Shuichi thrust his eyes closed, remembering once again their time together and practically reliving it in his mind. A bead of sweat surfaced on his forehead as he envisioned the blonde hovering over him, the feel of the luscious singer inside of him, diving into him. Smooth skin, tense muscles, soft lips… Shuichi puckered his mouth and opened half-lidded eyes, looking once again upon the lead singer, before closing them again and allowing himself to be swamped by the memories.

He could still remember the pleasure at the height of it all, when he had been wrapped up in Eiri's arms. He had felt so good…so loved, almost… It was like a dream come true. If only it could happen again.

"Wow," Sakano said, painfully dragging Shuichi back to reality with a heavy blush.

Shuichi prayed that Sakano didn't look over—all his shame and guilt was so apparent. The urge to grab himself was almost irresistible, and Shuichi tangled his fingers into his pink locks to stop himself. He heard Eiri's voice again, now a soft, fast melody instead of long notes, but equally alluring. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to look up at the singer, lest he make his own frailty even worse.

It was useless, though. Shuichi gave in, and his hand wandered down to his groin, lightly touching the bulge there. He had to work to stifle a moan. Another flawless note from Eiri sent Shuichi's mind spinning, and he felt himself harden so much that it was like torture.

"I…I don't feel so good!" Shuichi cried out, jumping to his feet and taking off towards the bathroom, hoping that he had turned quick enough that Sakano didn't see his faithlessness.

Plowing full-speed towards the bathroom, Shuichi only stopped himself after almost taking a nosedive straight into a toilet. He kicked the stall closed and locked it frantically before pulling open his fly and gripping himself tightly, finally releasing his pent-up moan. He could still hear the muffled tones of Eiri's voice through the walls, and it only inspired more visions.

He could feel Eiri thrusting into him, gripping his shoulders and groaning above him. That deliciously soft yet slick skin sliding across his own left butterflies in his stomach.

His right hand was joined by his left as the pleasure mounted. The tunes from the club had faded away, and Shuichi could only assume that the song had ended, but that was the last thing in his mind at the moment. The visions of golden eyes were intense—he could see Eiri everywhere, sitting on the park bench, lying on top of him on that old couch, standing on stage, confident and cocky, and that lovely outfit. The smirk, the frown, the taste of those lips… And the feel of Eiri inside of him never left him. He wanted it so badly. He could never have enough.

Sweat dripped down his cheeks like tears. Clutching himself tightly, Shuichi felt his entire body spasm and tense right before the entire world exploded around him. He screamed Eiri's name as he climaxed, dirtying himself in his own shame.

A few moments of heavy, dank silence passed, as Shuichi lay motionless, sprawled uncomfortably across the toilet. His breath was rapid and irregular, and sweat clung to his body with a musky, damp scent. "Oh, God…" he whispered, his throat sore from all his moaning. "God, Eiri…"

It wasn't until the glow of sex started fading that Shuichi realized he was crying. Sniffing slightly, he reached for the toilet paper and began to wipe himself off. He wasn't sure why the tears were flowing as they did—he supposed it was sadness over something he didn't have. Sakano didn't love him, he knew that now, and neither did Eiri. He felt so lonely, it was tearing him up inside.

Throwing the soiled paper into the water and flushing the toilet, Shuichi zipped up his fly and wiped the last of his tears away before opening the stall door and stepping outside. The sight that awaited him nearly made him faint.

It was a sight that was now hardly unfamiliar, though more often quite unreal. Smooth white skin, godly golden eyes and tight leather pants, no different from what had been so recently envisioned in his mind, decorated the beauty that stood before him now. Shuichi's eyes quivered as he lifted them towards the face, which he only hoped would not be too scornful.

Eiri looked as though he didn't know whether to be angry or amused; one eyebrow was lifted higher than the other, and his lips were parted slightly, as if on standby and ready to move once he made up his mind. Shuichi stood, frozen to his spot, his breaths arriving in quick succession, just like earlier, and his eyes fluttered back and forth as thoughts raced through his mind.

The two stood, unmoving, for what seemed like forever. The awkwardness was suffocating, but Shuichi, at least, was trapped. His gaze began to wander to his opposite, slowly climbing up those spider-like legs, until he realized what he was doing and returned his eyes to the floor with a slight gasp.

At last, Eiri took initiative, relieving the tension a bit with a subdued, stiff "humph," freeing Shuichi from his prison. Shuichi took the chance to casually stride forward, pretending as though this wasn't the most embarrassing, destructive moment in his life, toward the sink adjacent to the one upon which Eiri was leaning. The sinks of the club were the automatic kind; Shuichi held his hands under the faucet and it turned on instantly by itself, knowing in all its mechanical wisdom that it held the last refuge for the pink-haired author. The water flowed over his palms and curled between his fingers, winding and twisting like a frightened snake, and carrying with it all the sticky ignominy from his skin.

"Now I know I have at least one fan," Eiri muttered, the smirk on his lips surfacing in his tone. "I thought I was pretty clear that I didn't want to see you again. Why did you come here?"

The color drained instantly from Shuichi's face, and all of his leftover sweat cooled so suddenly that a chill ran down his spine. "I…I didn't mean—it was… It was a coincidence! I swear! I didn't know the band was _yours_!" Shuichi cried, all his former humiliation retreating to be replaced with anger.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! What, you think I'm a stalker?"

"I would guess so, the way you were hollering my name like that for anyone to hear."

Shuichi frowned, almost surprised that Eiri's comment only further infuriated him instead of embarrassing him like such statements usually would. "Whatever! I was just out to have a good time with my…" he cut himself short, tossing a hand in front of his mouth. The entire affair was dishonorable, but he didn't want Eiri to know that he was already taken, especially since said singer seemed to want nothing to do with him anyway.

"With your boyfriend?"

Shuichi glanced to the side, finally making eye contact with the singer, as his face formed into a frightened expression. "How… How did you know?" he whispered.

Eiri snorted, running an impatient hand through his hair, unwittingly illustrating its silkiness for Shuichi to feed upon. "God, you're such an idiot. It was frankly obvious that you were living with someone else, and it hardly looked like a roommate, since there was only one bed."

"But…"

"And besides that," Eiri continued, rolling his eyes and then letting them wander towards the ceiling, "Half that shit on the floor didn't match you, especially since most of the clothes weren't even your size or style."

Shuichi felt his eyes stinging with growing tears.

"And," Eiri said, returning his eyes to Shuichi with a snide smile, "Why would you have coffee if you never drink it yourself? Hmm…?"

"But I… It's nothing…with him. It's you that I love!"

Eiri closed his eyes and laughed bitterly before his face hardened, and he grabbed Shuichi's collar, jerking the boy forward up onto his toes. "Look, I told you no, and I meant it. I don't _ever_ want to see your face again, do you understand?"

Shuichi's face reddened, and tears glistened in his eyes as he clutched onto Eiri's fist in an attempt to sustain his balance. "No!" he cried. "No! I don't understand!"

"Wha…?"

"You bastard! How can you expect me to understand an asshole like you? You didn't mention _anything_ about it being a one-time thing before we did it! I thought it meant something! I wouldn't have gone through with it otherwise!"

Eiri's face assumed a mask of anger as he glared down at Shuichi through slit eyes. His lips pursed before opening into a snarl. "Dumb-ass. It's not my fault that you're a dimwit. You thought it meant something…"

"Of course I did! Anyone would!"

"Any preadolescent, hormonally unstable girl would! Let this be a lesson to you, then," Eiri growled before tossing Shuichi forward into the sinks. The writer landed hard, his head painfully sinking into the faucet, which spit forth its water as if it were mocking him. "I read your fucking book," Eiri continued, stepping backwards and crossing his arms over his chest, perching himself in a menacing stance. "You shouldn't write about love, when you know nothing about it. It's quite obvious that you don't."

"And you do?" Shuichi retorted sharply, unsure whether to be angry at the insult or flattered that Eiri had taken the time to read his work.

The sick smile that drifted across Eiri's expression left Shuichi wondering what could have caused such a reaction. The only thing he could fathom, as he stared fixedly, was that the answer was a very painful "yes." A few moments of thick silence passed, unbroken until Eiri sighed and let his arms fall loosely to his sides, shifting his weight, and then swinging around, striding towards the door with an exasperated air.

Shuichi waited until the door slammed shut after him before breaking down into tears, slumping to the floor and burying his choked sobs in his hands. The altercation stung bitterly in his mind as he wept, tearing his body in half with his violent cries. He had been so mad at Sakano for being so timid and unsatisfying, but Shuichi knew he himself was a demon in comparison. Cheating on his caring boyfriend for a man that didn't even give a shit about him…his own deplorability ricocheted around his thoughts, making his sobs that much more passionate and pathetic.

Even as he knelt there, though, weeping as if the world had just ended, he could make no resolutions for the better nor forgive himself for anything. Whatever force this was would not release its grip on him, and all he could see was the one person he would never have.

What did Eiri know? Shuichi was new, but he was learning quickly. Love was just as painful as the smile that had twisted Eiri's lips into such a frightful warning.

TBC

Notes: A couple of notes on Fujisaki: I think he'll be the only character I'm changing physically. First, I'm making him older than he is in the anime. Probably around 18 or so; the actual age doesn't matter so much, but he lives on his own. Second, he's not related to Tohma. At all. Doesn't even know him.

No matter how many times I proofread my work, there are always more typos. I don't know why. The first chapter, I read over, like, fifteen times because I was stuck in my aunt's house in Chicago with nothing to do, and yet I _still_ missed some…

Makes me angry; stupid spell-checker never catches them. Also, now, since I'm _not _stuck in my aunt's house, and actually have a computer, I won't be reading over them as much, which probably means I will miss even _more_ typos. Sorry.

And lastly, but definitely not leastly (eh-heh, that's not a word), thank you everyone for reviewing. I have this posted in three places, so sometimes it's hard to keep up with all of them, but I really do appreciate your encouragement and criticism.

Until next time,

Cassi.


	4. Chapter 4

Rock and Romance

Warnings: Not much…

Archived: http:adultfan,nexcess,net/aff/story,php?no544173771 ; http:fiction,gurabiteshiyon,net/story,php?no722 ; http:www,fanfiction,net/s/2199767/1/

Chapter 4

Eiri stood awkwardly in the center of the club, glancing around for sign of his band mates—they had removed the equipment from the stage, which informed Eiri that Fujisaki was serious when he had said, "You're too sick to continue."

Fujisaki was a know-it-all. Eiri wasn't sick, and he was certain that Fujisaki knew that. For all he knew, Fujisaki had some ulterior motive to quit playing after the first song, but he didn't know, nor did he care, what that could be. Best to let little nuisances to their own devices, because he didn't want to have to play mommy and watch the stupid rat.

God dammit… 

Sadly enough, though, only recently had Eiri started understanding that Fujisaki was, in fact, his _only_ friend. The realization hit him hard when he had been forced to ask to crash at Fujisaki's place. The complaining and chastisement that went along with that was inevitable and endless, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Fujisaki agreed to let him stay, even though their personalities clashed like sandpaper.

"Sorry guys," a voice came over the speakers. Eiri looked up at the stage to see a very nerdy looking guy, decked out in yellow and orange, standing at the microphone. "Bad Luck has copped out on us," this was followed by a great deal of groans from the audience—more than Eiri was expecting—but the announcer only continued. "'S okay, though, you see. We've got our DJ on hand, so you'll still get some music. Besides, we have some more Bad Luck lined up in the future…once the members _recover_…"

Eiri had stopped listening by this time, having already retreated back into his own world. He was still smarting from the confrontation with Shuichi, as much as he hated to admit it, and the guilt loaded him with visions of the stupid pink-haired brat leaning over the sink with a small bruise already surfacing on his forehead.

It must have hurt. Hitting his head on the faucet like that…

Eiri didn't know why he had been so hostile. He had been _glad_ to see Shuichi again; he didn't know why he had said what he did. He had lost control. Shuichi had been calling out his name… It made him so angry, but he couldn't explain why. He had felt as if Shuichi didn't have the right to do such a thing.

"Stop pouting! You're always pouting like a toddler!"

Eiri turned around and glared before he even registered who had spoken. His dark look came to rest upon his two guitarists, Midori Ryotarou and Tachibana Akira. They both had their cases strapped to their torsos over their jackets, looking about ready to leave.

"What do you want?" Eiri asked venomously, placing his hands on his hips. He held his glare in place, knowing that it was infuriating Midori.

"Where's Suguru?" Midori asked, frowning back at Eiri.

"Hell if I know."

"Why do you have to be so anal? You're so annoying."

"So I've been told."

"Come on, Uesugi. Stop acting like a brat. You're making things worse for yourself, you know," Midori warned, leaning forward and putting up his own glare against Eiri's.

"Whatever. You've known me long enough. Do you think I actually care?" Eiri retorted, his face remaining hard.

"I swear, Uesugi…" Midori spat through clenched teeth as he reached forward and grabbed Eiri's collar menacingly, but Eiri merely continued to glare at him, knowing it would set him off sooner or later…had they not been so rudely interrupted.

"Would you two stop it already?" a new voice called, drawing all three gazes. Fujisaki stood, his hands perched on his waist, as he glared around at them. "Honestly! How do you expect us to get anything worthwhile done if you keep acting like spoiled brats? You're going to tear apart Bad Luck!"

Midori released Eiri's collar and stepped back, but he hardly looked sorry. "We already have! I'm outta here, and so is Akira! I'm not playing with an asshole like this!" He swung his hand out and whapped Eiri's shoulder before quickly dodging the singer's pounce. He smiled angrily at Eiri, and then snatched Akira's arm and hauled the other guitarist away with him.

Eiri stared after them, following with his eyes as they weaved in and out of the dancers towards the exit, until he noticed a dark glare angled in his direction. He turned towards Fujisaki, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at the younger keyboardist.

"You're such an idiot, Eiri!" Fujisaki yelled, looking like he was trying his best not to hit Eiri. "Bad Luck's over now, and it's your fault!"

"What are you talking about? We don't need them. My synth will be good enough to cover a few guitarists."

"No, it won't, Eiri! I can't do that!"

"Of course you can."

"No, I can't."

Eiri rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, letting one hand drop to his side. "Fine then. _I'll_ do it, since you're so inept."

"That's not the problem Eiri," Fujisaki said in a chastising tone. "The synth can only play back one recording at a time. If I play along, that's only two parts. We need three to cover for them. It won't work. We won't be able to play live."

Eiri paused in a moment of thought, frowning even more when he realized Fujisaki was right.

"This band is losing members too quickly," Fujisaki continued. "There's no point in looking for more—you're such a dick, they won't stick around. We might as well dissolve Bad Luck."

"We can't," Eiri said firmly, using his best possible glare in order to make Fujisaki stop.

"Come on! What are we going to do? Maybe it's time to settle down, get _real_ jobs. Give up, Eiri," Fujisaki added, doing the impossible and ignoring Eiri's glare.

"You can't expect me to give up, just like that!"

"I thought you hated singing anyway."

"No, I don't. I love it. I love music. We can't quit."

Fujisaki scrutinized Eiri thoughtfully for a few minutes in contemplation before releasing a smile and letting his eyes wander to the ceiling in a half-assed eye roll. "It's funny. This is the first time I've seen you so passionate about anything. Too bad it's too late."

"Fuji—"

"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt."

Eiri stopped, his mouth still hanging open in the processes of pronouncing Fujisaki's name, readying a glare for the interruption. He turned, closing his mouth, but his angry expression vanished when he laid eyes upon the suit that was standing in front of them. He quickly glanced back at Fujisaki, whom was also staring at the newcomer in a strange sort of confusion.

The man was tall, but normal to the extreme. His black, neatly cropped hair was nicely combed behind his ears, and he stood in a tense position, halfway in a bow, with his eyes lowered to the ground. His most noticeable feature in fact did not necessarily belong to him—he was wearing a light gray suit, not unlike one an office worker would wear, which stood out in the dark, wild club.

"You two are members of Bad Luck?" the man asked, lifting his eyes slightly.

Fujisaki let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. Are you a fan? I hesitate to say this, but I don't think Bad Luck exists anymore."

Eiri let out a small grunt at the words, as if he had been slapped, and earned himself a look from the newcomer, though he refused to meet it.

"Why?" the newcomer asked, sounding almost afraid.

"Our guitarists quit. We don't have a band without them," Fujisaki explained casually, acting as though it made no difference to him, which only ticked Eiri off. Fujisaki lifted guilty eyes to him, and Eiri stared back in warning.

"Well, that's okay, because it was you two I wanted to talk to anyway. You see, I work for NG Records, and I came here looking for you."

Eiri and Fujisaki both snapped their heads to the newcomer, staring at him as if he were an alien.

"My name's Sakano. I'm wondering if you'll reconsider your decision to destroy Bad Luck."

Eiri felt his mouth drop open, though it was halfway trying to form a smile through his look of utter shock.

I can't believe this… Just in the nick of time. 

"How would you like to be stars?"

"I'll show you…" 

For the first time in his life, Shuichi was enjoying being alone. Sakano was off at work, leaving the apartment solely to Shuichi, who used this opportunity to its fullest. The argument with Eiri the night before had left him sore, and even though Sakano blamed himself for Shuichi's depressed mood (claiming that it was his own fault for not following and comforting him in the bathroom) and had pledged to take better care of him, Shuichi was glad he was gone. Sakano was coming close to smothering him.

"One guy's too close, the other's too far away," Shuichi moaned, lifting his hand up from the covers to trace the edge of his wooden nightstand. The intricately carved designs, newly polished, entertained the tips of his fingers, though he didn't look at them. Now was not the time to be bothering with reality. Right now, he could imagine Eiri exactly the way he wanted him to be, and not the way he really was.

Shuichi looked at the open door, studying it before lightly closing his eyes and imagining the blond singer stalking through it, ducking under the frame, and dragging his feet until he knelt down beside Shuichi's bed.

"I'm sorry, Shuichi," Eiri would say, with an embarrassed smile on his face. "I don't know what came over me. I guess I was just confused. You see, I love you so very much!"

Shuichi smiled, letting his eyelids gently drift open to stare at the ceiling. He sat up and looked around at his messy room, breathing a sigh as his smile softly faded away. It would never happen. Eiri wasn't like that, and Shuichi couldn't decide if he would still love Eiri so much if he were.

_Trust me to fall in love with an asshole. I guess it's kind of fun._

Shuichi stood, his oversized nightshirt falling lower around his thighs, and walked sleepily towards the kitchen. He paused as he passed the couch, staring at it and all the memories tied to it. It was still cleared, except that Sakano had draped one of his shirts over the armrest, and it still looked foreign to be clean. Shuichi stared, the memory of Eiri burying him in the cushions surfacing, bringing a tingling sensation to his eyes.

_"I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again. I don't want to see you again."_

"I saw you again," Shuichi whispered, bringing his shaking hand to his lips. "It was…almost like fate…"

The phone rang suddenly, causing Shuichi to jump out of his thoughts. He glanced over at it wildly, watching it ring away at its place on the coffee table, before leaping over the armrest onto the couch to snatch it up.

"Hello?"

"Shindou-kun, it's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Shuichi's blood ran cold, and his face paled upon hearing the voice. He took a shaky breath, leaning back into the cushions of the couch and pulling his knees to his chest.

"Tohma…"

"How are you doing? Are you well?"

Polite as ever. Shuichi frowned. Tohma was two-faced. The man only cared about himself; it was what sent everything crashing down in Shuichi's life.

"What do you want, Tohma?" Shuichi growled.

Tohma chuckled softly over the line. "Straight to the point, eh, Shuichi? Fine then. I was talking to Sakano earlier today," Shuichi held his breath, "and I understand that you two are having some problems…"

"So what? It's none of your business!" Shuichi cried, almost desperately. He knew better than to let Tohma get involved. Once Tohma was in the game, his affair with Eiri would be instantly uncovered. And, worst of all, that could ruin Eiri; if Sakano found out that Shuichi was cheating on him with one of his employees, well, Eiri was still expendable to NG.

The worst part about it, though, was that if Tohma was really interested, there was nothing Shuichi could do to stop him.

"Calm down, Shuichi. I'm only trying to help."

"No, you're not! If you want to help, stay out of it! I can handle things on my own!" Shuichi yelled. "You'll only make things worse."

There was a long silence that followed that, before Tohma finally spoke again. "How about we meet for lunch? We can talk about this in person…"

If there was any color left in Shuichi's face before, it was gone now. "No… No! Two years ago, I told you no, and I meant it! I don't ever want to see you again!"

Shuichi swung his hand to his mouth when his own words registered in his brain. He almost dropped the phone, and his eyes glazed with horror, gathering tears that would never fall.

_"Look, I told you no, and I meant it. I don't _ever_ want to see your face again, do you understand?"_

_You're right, Eiri_, Shuichi thought, blinking back tears. _You told me I know nothing about love, and you were right. Once, what I thought was love turned out to be something completely different. Is it the same with you? Am I wrong about my feelings for you, too? Is that why you hate me so much?_

"I'm sorry, Shuichi. I have to go," Tohma's voice returned to his ear, and Shuichi blinked himself back into reality. "I have a meeting scheduled with a new band. I must hang up now, but please, just know this: I'm still your friend, okay? I'll watch out for you."

With that, the line clicked dead, but Shuichi remained where he was, frozen stiff, clutching the beeping phone to his ear. He wondered how many things he could actually keep from Sakano. He had…never mentioned Tohma before either.

The cushions of the couch seemed to be sucking him in, and Shuichi only relaxed his body in response, allowing himself to be buried in the squishy comfort. A sad, bitter smile fluttered across his face, turning his expression cold and grotesque if for only a minute. His eyes glazed for a second before he inhaled sharply and pulled himself from the couch's grip. The cordless phone's beeping was silenced when he pressed the button, but soon enough it started up again, shrieking at him for his attention.

"Hello…?" he asked pathetically with a deep fear that it would be Tohma again.

"Hello, Shindou-san? This is Mizuki. Are you all right?"

Shuichi breathed a sigh and sunk to the floor. Of all the people who could have been calling, he decided Mizuki would probably be the one he most wanted to talk to. She was only an editor, and the two were still on a professional basis, but she was kind and friendly. She was the last person he knew that would ever ask him about his private relationships.

"I'm fine. Sorry, I was just a little bit startled when the phone rang," Shuichi said, smiling at the image he had of her in his mind.

"I'm glad. I have a new promotional opportunity for _Rose_; there's a book tour coming up that includes a bunch of famous authors, and you've been asked to join. It will last for about two months and end here in Tokyo. I was wondering if you're interested—it's kind of short notice. You'd have to leave on Saturday."

Shuichi found himself relaxing even more from just the melodic sound of her voice—here was a person who was normal, unlike all the dysfunctional weirdoes he managed to get himself mixed up with. Besides, a book tour sounded good. Even though most authors considered them hassles, Shuichi thought of tours as vacations. They spelled the rare break from his decaying life.

"Okay, I'm up for it," Shuichi offered eagerly. "Where are we going this time?"

Eiri lifted the one book he owned closer to his face, biting his lip as he studied the picture printed above the caption, "About the Author." The pink hair looked a little weird in this photo for some reason; Eiri wondered if it was just a bad picture. Shuichi didn't look much like he did in real life.

_Shindou Shuichi was born in Tokyo, where he grew up with his parents and younger sister. Although he got bad grades in high school, Shindou was regarded as an intelligent individual. His first novel, _Electric_, was published when he was a junior in high school at age seventeen. Shindou is currently nineteen and resides in his own apartment in Tokyo. _Rose_ is his second novel._

"Doesn't say anything about his love life," Eiri muttered, setting the book down in the empty chair next to him. He looked up at Fujisaki, who was pacing nervously.

"What is that you keep reading, anyway?" Fujisaki asked, glancing down at the book. He lifted a mocking eyebrow when he noticed the array of pink and red roses that blanketed the cover. "_Rose_?"

Eiri laughed. "Tell me about it. I spent the last of my money on this piece of shit."

"Why?"

A good question with an answer that, although it was rather obvious, Eiri hadn't quite admitted to himself yet. Eiri merely shrugged in response.

"Whatever," Fujisaki said, taking a seat in the chair next to the one that embraced the book. "I wish Seguchi-san would hurry. I'm about to die here."

"What? We've already been scouted. They asked _us_ to come here. I don't think you have to worry so much."

"You're right, I guess," Fujisaki muttered, setting his chin on his fist. "Poor Midori and Tachibana. They left at the worst possible time."

"It's their fault for being impatient."

"It's your fault for being an ass."

"I don't feel guilty," Eiri muttered. After a brief pause, he quickly added, "About that." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to tack that onto the end of his sentence, but he was certain he did feel guilty. About Shuichi.

"Yeah? What _are_ you guilty about then, huh?" Fujisaki prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

Eiri cursed himself under his breath. He had set himself up for that one, and he knew it. Just his intonation alone had suggested that something was bothering him, and now he would have to tell Fujisaki.

When he opened his mouth to start spilling, his was more than grateful for the interruption.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Seguchi Tohma said from the now open doorway. "Something came up. Please, come in."

Eiri studied the man, the boss of NG, finding himself surprised with his slight build and pretty face. He didn't look at all the monster for which he was famous. Instead he looked polite, gentle, and angelic, even in the way he gracefully strode back to his chair behind his desk. His clothes were wild but tame, weird but fashionable, and ever so stylish. Eiri and Fujisaki awkwardly took their seats, watching as Seguchi sifted through several stacks of paper.

"Can I have your names, please?" Seguchi asked, picking up a pen from his desk.

"Fujisaki Suguru," Fujisaki interjected, shifting nervously. Seguchi scratched onto the paper without even looking up until he was finished, and his wide, innocent looking eyes came to rest inquisitively upon Eiri.

"Yuki Eiri."

Eiri saw out of the corner of his eyes Fujisaki turn to look at him, surprised. Seguchi didn't move to write it down, as he had for Fujisaki, but continued to stare at Eiri.

"Is that your real name?" Seguchi asked suspiciously.

"Of course not."

A smile chased away Seguchi's frown as he chuckled and turned back to his sheet of paper. "Yuki Eiri, eh?" he asked, scribbling it with the pen as he spoke. "I like you. What's your real name? This is for contact purposes, not for public usage."

"Uesugi."

"I understand. Yuki has a nicer ring to it." Seguchi smiled brightly, revealing a perfect set of glittering white teeth behind his full lips. "Anyway, I've been informed that you need new guitarists. We're currently a little short on guitarists… We'll be hiring more soon, but for now, I've only got one free one."

"It's okay!" Fujisaki exclaimed, his voice cracking, illustrating his nervousness. "We can make do with only one for now. We have a pretty good synthesizer…"

Seguchi opened his mouth, looking about ready to speak, but a gentle knock on the door stopped him. He paused a moment, seeming to debate something in his head, before heaving a sigh and calling out, "Come in!"

The door open softly, and the three occupants in the room turned to look at the newcomer. Decorated with only a pair of jeans and matching denim jacket over a white T-shirt, with long brown hair and a pretty, yet masculine face, he looked like the classic rocker. He stepped inside silently and closed the door with the tiniest _click_.

"Don't worry about that," Seguchi said, turning back to Fujisaki, continuing as if nothing had changed. "Actually, this guitarist was originally going to be assigned to a band that signed on a few weeks ago, but… Well, let's just he's the best we've got, and he'll fit better with you."

"What do you mean, 'fit better…?'" Eiri started, but Seguchi shrugged.

"Yuki Eiri, Fujisaki Suguru," Seguchi said, leaning back deeply into his cushioned leather chair, bending his elbows with his hands cupping the back of his head as if he were trying to demonstrate just how comfortable he was, "this is Nakano Hiroshi. Your new guitarist."

TBC

Notes: This chapter reeks of set-up-ness. None but the best can avoid it, but alas, I've not yet been inducted into such a prestigious society. I ogle at the amount of reviews that a single story can manage to obtain, and I feel empty inside, like a cold, hard…turkey…

Eh-heh… No wonder… Putting that aside, since it made only a very stupid sort of sense anyway, thank you again and again to you reviewers out there.

And, I got my first bad review for this story!!! Yay! And it was a very uneducated one at that: Okay, Amaya, let's first get this out into the open. 1000 yen is NOT equal to $1.60. I don't know what currency exchange rate you're looking at, but maybe you should try something different. When I read your review, I actually went and checked the exchange rate to be sure, and voila. You see, Amaya, when it says $1.00 is equal to 102.03 yen (1/16/05), it means one yen is more or less equal to one penny. Hence, 1000 yen is a little less that $10. Simple math. Also, about the offensive Goth stuff—hate to tell you, but I have nothing against Goths, or any subculture for that matter, not even those "little preps" that you certainly don't seem to like very much. I hope you realize that I put that in there to CHARACTERIZE Eiri. I assumed that people with half a brain, or any reading skills at all, would be able to figure that out (of course, maybe that doesn't apply to you). And as for the story I wrote in Japanese, perhaps you could review _that_ story, telling me _which_ words I messed up; that would certainly be much more helpful than saying it makes no "sence," and leaving it at that. If you have comments on that story, comment on it in _that_ story, because the way you vaguely mentioned it here makes you sound jealous. (If anyone wants to read this review, it's on the Fanfiction Net review page for this story. It's really funny; you should check it out.)

That's probably pretty wrong of me, to reply only to the bad reviews, but I'm sorry. That one was just asking for it. I couldn't resist. I've done review replies in one of my other stories, but I found it to be really difficult to do; Fanfiction Net always takes _forever_ to get new reviews, so I always miss people, and I always feel bad when I do. Besides, I have one response to answer all reviews: THANK YOU!!! I consider your suggestions, if you have them, when I write new chapters, and I love the encouragement you give me when you don't have suggestions. Your reviews are much more appreciated than flames like lovely Amaya's.

One last thing (sorry that these notes are endless): if anyone has any good ideas for the direction of this story, send it in a review. I didn't think I'd even get this far in this story, but lately I've really gotten in to original fiction, so my brain is sore from coming up with so many ideas, and I'm kinda stuck here. Any feedback is welcome, as I hope I made obvious with the last paragraph.

Until next time,

Cassi.


	5. Chapter 5

Rock and Romance

Warnings: A jump forward in time. Sorries, that's the only surefire way to cure writer's block. Anyway, it's mentioned in the text, so you probably won't be confused…

Archived: http:adultfan,nexcess,net/aff/story,php?no544173771 ; http:fiction,gurabiteshiyon,net/story,php?no722 ; http:www,fanfiction,net/s/2199767/1/

Chapter 5 

Shuichi threw his arms up into the air, allowing his bags to tumble to the ground, in a much-needed stretch. He let out a content sigh, his eyes slipping closed, as he twisted his body around, working out all the little kinks he had gathered from the short flight. With every pop of each joint, he could feel a relaxing sensation pouring around his body, as if he were being engulfed in the world's finest hot spring.

Only after he had successfully relieved every muscle in his body did he lean over to pick up his bags again. He gathered them up in his arms and looked about the apartment—nothing had changed in the two months he had been gone, except that it seemed Sakano had picked up a little. The couch was still bare, and everything else was still messy. Shuichi frowned to see the door to the bedroom was closed; he hated when Sakano shut it. But, then again, he knew Sakano liked it better closed, thinking that it gave him some sort of privacy, though Shuichi never quite understood that, since they shared that room anyway. Sakano was usually considerate and kept it open, just for him, so it was understandable that it was closed now, Shuichi decided, because he actually hadn't told Sakano that he was returning home.

"Sakano," Shuichi called, even though he knew it would be fruitless; it was only midday, about one or so, and Sakano always was at the studio at this time. Still, miracles did happen, as did nasty surprises. He only wanted to make sure.

As he was expecting, no one responded. Shuichi made his way towards the bedroom, stumbling over various pieces of junk on his way, and swung open the door. He took a deep breath, deciding that the air smelled a tad bit stale, and then tossed his bags inside, patting himself on his back for his excellent aim in landing them on the bed, imagining himself as a professional basketball player, like Michael Jordan or Yao, shooting hoops at a highly anticipated game. Landing bags on beds was amateur work; he was a master.

World Famous Shindou Shuichi. Basketball Pro Extraordinaire.

"What to do, what to do…?" Shuichi sang to himself, turning around and stumbling across the room to collapse onto the couch. He let out another sigh, though this one was more of boredom than anything.

Because of his tour, his next novel's deadline had been pushed back two months, which gave him a little break. He had secretly been hoping that his little vacation would cure the awful slump he had fallen in, but no such luck. His desire to write still had yet to come. Besides, he hadn't even started the novel yet, and beginnings were always the hardest.

Shuichi lay there motionlessly for a while, relaxing in the moment he had. He could hear nothing but the little battery face clock ticking away every second that he didn't move, and soon enough it became annoying. All the silence bothered him—he was a creature of noise. Whenever there was someone to talk to, he would be talking. Sometimes he would even talk to himself, if the situation were dire enough; however, this time did not apply. Shuichi sat up and flicked on the radio (which appeared to have been shoved halfway under the coffee table), inhaling the sound of music that filled the room.

The current singer's voice seemed slightly familiar, but Shuichi knew he had never heard the song before. Nonetheless, it was good, and Shuichi even found his feet tapping to the rhythm on their own accord. This was always his favorite way to waste time.

"_And that was Sakuma Ryuichi with the song 'Rain Shine,' off his first solo album. We'll be continuing with the music soon, but first we've got some concert info for all you music heads out there_," the DJ's voice started rapidly as soon as the last note of the song finished.

Shuichi smiled. Sakuma Ryuichi, that's right. They had only met once before, when Ryuichi worked with Sakano one time, but they had hit it off pretty quick, so to speak. Shuichi remembered thinking, at that time, that if he weren't with Sakano…

An exasperated laugh escaped his lips with this memory. _I'm really awful, aren't I_, he thought, shaking his head. _How many times have I thought of dumping Sakano? I guess I really am unsatisfied with him._

This only served to bring about the memory of Eiri, something that he had actually managed to abandon while on vacation. Shuichi blinked his eyes and tried to shake his head clear, instead focusing his attention to the radio.

"_Tonight, tonight, tonight! At the 'Rocket Pad,' we have for you lovely listeners the chance to win free tickets to Bad Luck's sold out show! Tickets for this show were completely gone within the first hour of ticket sales. I mean it; this is absolutely your last chance to get tickets if you don't already have them. Be the fourth caller…_"

Shuichi felt his back go rigid, and suddenly he was sitting up straight on the couch. Bad Luck…

Shuichi frowned and picked up the phone, quickly dialing a number he knew by heart—he couldn't stop himself. He was back home, and all his old problems had to be dealt with sooner or later.

"Hello?" a voice answered on the other line, and Shuichi's will almost shattered just from the sound of it. Almost.

"I need you to do something for me," Shuichi cried urgently. "I need to get into the Bad Luck concert tonight. Please, Tohma?"

The crowd was going wild; it was the last song of their performance. Eiri could see security darting around, trying to keep the fans from rushing the stage, but he barely paid attention. He cut off his last note, listening as the music halted straight after him, and stood, eyeing the crowd silently, as if he were unsure of what to do, with the microphone still held up to his lips.

He breathed a sigh and blinked slowly, leaving his eyes half-lidded and earning himself a few high-pitched squeals from a few feminine faces. "I hope you enjoyed it," he said at last, his own voice reverberating around the building and echoing back to his own ears. It was loud, but the effect was hardly as deafening as the screams from the audience. The entire picture flooded his eyes—he could barely make out the glowing orange faces behind the glare of the stage lights, but the sheer number of them overwhelmed him. Playing at dingy clubs was one thing, but this was unthinkable. A few months ago, he never would have thought he'd be here, now, faced with hundreds of fans screaming over him with every scrap of voice they had. And just like that, his words escaped him. A few moments of silence passed, the audience fidgeting impatiently, before Hiro approached Eiri from behind and slipped the microphone from his hand.

"Hey guys," Hiro said with a smile into the microphone. "I'm sorry, I think Yuki here is just a little overjoyed with your presence." A dorky chuckle followed this, and Eiri turned to glare at him, hating to admit that it was true. Hiro shot him a playfully condescending smile, and then continued. "If you liked this performance, then come to our next concert at the 'Ruido.' I hope to see you there. Thanks, to all of you." With that, he drove his hands into the air, resembling the pose of a champion of a boxing match. This elicited the greatest cheer that they had heard all night, and they exited to the lovely sound.

"You were great," Hiro called once they were fully backstage, approaching the dressing rooms. "Really, both of you. It's fun working with you guys, you know that?" He grinned again as he pulled his guitar from his shoulder and ducked into his room. Eiri and Fujisaki remained standing outside, completely silent.

"He's cool," Fujisaki muttered, and then smiled, almost bitterly. "Hey, Eiri, I never got to tell you. You'll never guess who I ran into at NG today."

"Who?" Eiri asked, trying to sound uninterested.

"Aizawa Taki. Apparently he signed on at NG last month some time."

Eiri frowned hearing the name. He was still a little sore from Taki's betrayal, not to mention from his own demons that still compared his own voice to Taki's beautiful one. Of course Taki would get a spot with NG; he was talented.

"What did he say to you?"

"Well," Fujisaki said, narrowing his eyes as if he were trying to dig deep into his memory. "He looked about as surprised to see me there as I was to see him. He thought I was, like, an extra, like Hiro used to be, I guess. When I told him that I was the keyboardist for a band…with you as the lead singer, well, first he looked like he was about to faint. And then he flipped and stormed off in a huff. It was kind of disturbing, truthfully."

"Whatever," Eiri mumbled. "Who cares about a little competition? It makes victory that much sweeter."

"Right," Fujisaki said with a cute smile, nodding his head. He let out a short laugh, winked, and then turned and stepped into his dressing room.

Eiri paused a moment, thinking briefly about the former lead singer of Bad Luck and trying not to let it upset him, before he continued on. He rounded the corner towards his dressing room, reaching out to grasp the handle, when suddenly he felt as though a sack of bricks smacked him in the head. He fell against the wall, pressing his fingers to his temples, and slid to the ground, breathing heavily. The urge to vomit came over him, and he forced himself to keep breathing so that he wouldn't retch.

_They say, the higher you fly, the harder you fall, right?_ Eiri thought underneath the onslaught of the sudden massive headache. _I really was soaring._

Eiri clutched his head with one hand, placing the other on the ground, propping himself up and he straightened out his waist, and then leaned back against the wall, pulling his knees into his chest and using them to support his head. The throbbing was so heavy, his entire body shook, and his ears were ringing louder than all the fans' screams put together. This was close to being a migraine. Eiri bit his lower lip and tried desperately to clear his mind, but a soft white mist was rapidly spreading across the inside of his eyelids.

I'm going to die… 

"No you're not," Yuki said, biting into his apple.

"Yes I am!" Eiri cried, sinking deeper onto the hard wooden table that was currently supporting all of his weight. "My brain is going to pop…"

Yuki only laughed at this, taking another bite and setting his elbows onto the table across from the young blonde. "It's going to pop, huh?"

"It's a migraine. It hurts so bad! Why do I get these horrible migraines…? Yuki…"

"Grow up," Yuki replied coldly. "It's not a migraine. You've never had a migraine. Migraines knock you out."

"You don't call this being knocked out?" Eiri screamed, tears already surfacing in his eyes. This was the slow kind of pain, torture to be exact. It was a dull ringing that lasted forever, drove him insane. He couldn't stand it. It was the worst thing he ever felt.

"No. You're just whining." Yuki leaned back in his chair, draping his long arms over his skinny frame—he was still in his performance costume, which only served to show off his thin body. In fact, he looked thinner than usual…

Maybe it was the black eye shadow that made his eyes look sunken, and the powder that made him look especially pale. Yuki was naturally skinny… Eiri didn't know why he was noticing it so much tonight. Still, a worried frown etched itself onto his face as he scrutinized the older singer.

"See? You've already forgotten about it," Yuki said, grinning, though his smile did not reach his eyes. "It's no migraine."

"Yuki, are you…?"

"Come on, Eiri," he said, still wearing the smile. It seemed frighteningly ominous; there was a peculiar sorrow, almost regret, exuding from its sharp curve. "Let's go to bed."

The performer stood up, his frame rocking slightly, before turning and stumbling towards the bedroom. Eiri rose to his feet as well, watching carefully, and following obediently as always. As he watched the lanky form meld with the darkness of the room, he felt a certain terror well into his throat.

"I love you, Yuki!" he called, as if it were the only thing that could save him.

"Sakano, Sakano! Are you around here?"

Eiri cursed the interruption of the muffled voice and lifted his head to glare—upon finding his portion of the hallway empty, he allowed his head to fall back into its previous position. His headaches took longer to go away now; it was Kitazawa's magic that always chased them away before, but now…

"Sakano!"

He could tell now that the voice was coming from around the corner, probably somewhere in front of Hiro or Fujisaki's rooms. And what an annoying voice it was! Certainly nothing to help his headache get any better.

He listened to the footsteps of whoever it was—they were sporadic and bouncy, irregular in a lively sort of way. At least they gave him something to concentrate on other than his headache. They were coming closer to the corner, to his spot against the wall, but he didn't dare lift his head and exacerbate the ache, even when they rounded the corner and stopped short, right in front of him.

"A…are you okay?" the grating voice asked, a scratchy quality to the tone, hinting of nervousness.

"No. Go away," Eiri commanded flatly, sinking his head deeper between his knees. For some reason, his brain told him that

gravity would fix the hurt and drain his head of the pain as long as he succumbed to its force. Tilting his head at such an angle, at least, made the pain feel a little different, which was a start.

"Eiri…"

Ah… He had thought that voice sounded familiar. Last time he heard that name on those lips, it was being passionately cried out behind the not-so-private confines of a public bathroom stall.

"You really are stalking me, aren't you?" Eiri said, lifting his head and staring at the pink-haired author, pretended that his eyes didn't cloud with darkness from the movement and keeping them locked in place.

"I'm not… I told you—at the club that night, I just went with my boyfriend. I didn't know you'd be there."

Eiri laughed mockingly, setting his head back against the wall. "Surely you knew I'd be _here_, unless you're really clueless. You knew this was a Bad Luck concert, right?"

There was no response, and Eiri peeled open his eyes, looking at Shuichi standing there, blushing pink. The entire hall suddenly seemed strangely silent, with every noise muted. It must have been the headache.

"You don't look very good… Are you all right? Do you have a headache?"

Eiri's eyelids fell closed again, and he remained there like that, his arms draped across his knees and the wall supporting the whole of his upper body. The pain felt like it was almost settling at the bottom of his brain, like dust on the surface of a bookcase. One thing he needed now was alcohol—he had drunk sparingly for the past couple of months, since he had always been beat after the long days recording in the studios and ended up collapsing in bed the minute he got home. Luckily, he had managed to make enough money to buy his own apartment, and Fujisaki was no longer a hassle, but other than that, his life rather sucked.

Eiri's eyes instinctively snapped open when he felt a soft, cold touch on his right hand; he turned his focus on the brat kneeling beside him, holding his hand close to those red lips of his. The novelist's whole demeanor seemed oddly tense, and Eiri watched intently, expectantly, dreading and hoping at the same time to find out what was going on behind those darkened violet eyes.

When Shuichi gently bit the skin between his thumb and index finger, Eiri, much to his own surprise, only continued to watch. The kid's ministrations were odd, but enticing. His teeth softly raked across the skin, and then a strong, wet tongue followed, firmly moistening the flesh there. After a few seconds, Shuichi removed his mouth and began massaging with his hands in the very same place, rubbing and gliding his fingers expertly across the webbing there, for a few minutes. After he finished, he placed a feathery kiss on Eiri's thumb, as a gentleman would kiss a lady's hand, and then looked up expectantly.

"What the hell was that?" Eiri asked, finally donning his irritation once he was certain it was done.

"Is your headache gone?" Shuichi asked, wide-eyed.

Eiri blinked at him, realizing reluctantly that, in fact, it was. There was hardly a trace of it left—his head felt light once again.

"How…did you…?"

Shuichi smiled grandly, his face brightening up as if that had just made his day complete. "It's a trick I learned from my mom. You see, there's a pressure point between those two fingers; if you massage it like that, sometimes it makes headaches go away."

A tiny grin tugged at the corner of Eiri's mouth, and he fought it for all that he was worth. "You learned _that_ from your mom?" The smile won, breaking free into an amused smirk.

"Uh," Shuichi blinked, crossing his big eyes and blushing. "Not…exactly like that." A sheepish smile formed on his lips, drawing Eiri's gaze with their sheer lusciousness. "I'm allowed to improvise sometimes…you know…"

"Me too…" Eiri mumbled, staring intently at the bright face. His lips parted on their own accord, and he ever so slowly leaned forward until their lips touched gently. "As…thanks…"

The kiss was soft, a ghost of a kiss, lacking the passion of their other kisses. They no longer seemed bent on tearing each other apart—rather, it was a polite kiss, a gentleman's kiss, not unlike Shuichi's kiss on his thumb, leaving in its wake disappointment and promises. The whole while, Eiri found himself thinking of his dialogue afterwards, preparing a speech in his head to recite to the boy. _It won't work; that's all; I'm sorry; I can't…_ It was what he said every time, and what he meant every time, and yet it never lasted. Nonetheless, he would not allow himself another relationship, especially not with _this_ particular brat, and resigned himself to the dirty work.

Thus, he was completely taken by surprise when all his plans suddenly became obsolete.

"Shu…ichi…?"

With the alien voice, Eiri felt the novelist's lips depart from his own rapidly, like a rabbit racing to its hole. He peeled open his eyes, gazing amusedly at Shuichi's deer-in-the-headlights expression before curiosity ensnared him, and he turned his attention to the newcomer who was, as chance would have it, Eiri's very own boss.

"Sa-Sakano! It's not what it looks like!" Shuichi cried, obviously acting purely on impulse and instinct. He jumped to his feet, tripping himself on the way up and nearly falling, and held his hands up like a criminal would for a policeman.

"Shui…Shindou-kun, I didn't know you had returned from your trip…" Sakano's hair looked messier than usual. He pushed his thick glasses to the bridge of his nose as he ran his fingers though the dark strands.

"Umm…"

"I guess…" The silence of his pause hung restlessly in the muted air, thick and hot. "Then…I'll be seeing you, Shindou-kun. Yuki-kun." He dipped his head awkwardly before wandering off in a blank, dazed sort of way, weaving a bit from side to side. He turned the corner, disappearing from sight, but Eiri waited until he was sure the producer was out of hearing range before he spoke.

"What the hell was that? You know Sakano?"

Shuichi remained as he was, his body tensely rigid, swaying back and forth slightly. His eyes were still open wide, shining with what looked to be unshed tears.

"Hey!"

"I said I went to the club with my boyfriend!" Shuichi cried, suddenly launching himself into motion, grabbing his own pink bangs and scrunching his face. His voice was screechy, hinting of hysteria. "If only I had never met you! If only you hadn't wandered into my neighborhood. You didn't belong there. You were just passing. You're a predator, Eiri!"

Eiri felt the blood rush to his face so fast that it clouded his eyes, as well as his better judgment, and he lunged. His arms swung around Shuichi's legs, breaking their lock and sending the novelist tumbling down on top of him.

"I'm a predator?" Eiri spat, shoving Shuichi off him and slamming the kid's body into the ground. "You're the one who wouldn't leave me alone! I couldn't get rid of you, try though I did, and so I just used you for the cheap fuck you're worth!"

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Shuichi screamed, shaking his head back and forth. His cheeks were violet, and tears streaked his already gross face. Eiri winced at the sight, as well as at the volume at which the brat was yelling. It would only be a matter of time before Hiro, Fujisaki, and every other staff member made their way back here to witness this.

"Shuichi!" Eiri whined after a few moments promised only Shuichi's relentlessness. "Stop!"

But Shuichi didn't stop; if anything, he just increased the ferocity of his tantrum. Eiri grabbed the boy's hands tightly just to keep them still. The paranoia of someone seeing this spectacle welled up in Eiri, and he used his fear as strength to drag the novelist into his dressing room.

And, like all things, only when Eiri was out of danger of being the subject of gossip did Shuichi's bawling recede.

"H-How could you?" Shuichi stuttered, choking on his own tears and burying his face in his hands. Eiri clenched his jaw and made his way to the dressing table, awkwardly sitting sideways on the chair placed next to it.

"What?"

"How could you do this to me? You're such a bastard. You're the scum of the Earth. You're one of those people that the newscasters talk about…one of those strangers that people condemn even though they don't know you."

Eiri felt the blood rising to his face again; his eyes narrowed instantly, and if his body weren't so tense, it would have been trembling with rage.

"Why are you so cruel? You're just toying with me."

"Who's toying with who?" Eiri asked, giving everything he had into controlling his voice and temper. "You're the one that's taken. You're disloyal."

"You're worse!" Shuichi cried, jumping to his feet and pointing an enraged finger at the blonde. "I bet you've been to jail before, haven't you? You're like, this bad, tough guy, and you go around victimizing people just to be able to laugh at them!"

All his efforts were in vain. Eiri felt his temper snap like a wishbone. "Who the hell do you think I am? How dare you?"

"How dare _you_?" Shuichi retorted, matching Eiri's rage. "This is all your fault! You've ruined my life! You're just a pompous bastard! I should have known. I thought you were cool, but instead you're cold! You're just dirt! I'll tell Seguchi, and he'll kick you back out onto the street where you belong!"

It was originally intended to be a gentle slap, but Eiri's control was limited, and it grew into a full-fledged punch, knocking Shuichi's jaw so hard that the novelist collapsed from the force of it and was sent toppling to the floor. His delicate hands immediately sheltered the reddened cheek, hiding beneath it both the damage and the tears. Eiri could hear the strained sobs, as if Shuichi were trying to hold them back, amplified by the cupped hands, but his fury was enormous and he dared not comfort the boy.

"Who's pompous?" Eiri hissed, spinning around on his heel and throwing himself back onto his chair, trying to force his anger to dispel.

This time, he was only greeted by the incessant gasps and sobs of the boy, crumpled and hunched on the cold floor. Eiri rolled his eyes, but it was only half-hearted. The boy couldn't see it, and Eiri wouldn't have done it otherwise.

"Look, I'm sorry I hit you," Eiri muttered reluctantly. After still no reply came, he sighed and turned his head, resting his forehead in his hand. He continued, trying to ignore the feeling that his words were falling on deaf ears, "I don't know what you thought you would get by coming here, anyway. It's your fault you're so upset because you can't let go."

After a bit of silence, unbroken even by sobs, Shuichi surprisingly answered. His voice no longer held venom or anger, but rather, just sadness. "You're right. I'm an idiot."

Eiri bit back his tongue, unsure of whether to agree with the brat or not. His lack of response, however, didn't seem to perturb Shuichi at all.

"I was so stupid to think that there was something with you. You're right. I don't know anything about love. I write about what I want love to be, but it's all just a delusion, isn't it? You're just a stranger I met in a park one day, nothing more, right? It was just a one-night stand. It would blossom into nothing, and I knew it."

"Your problem," Eiri interjected, once Shuichi fell into a pause, "is that you worry too much about love. It's not as important as you think it is."

"…Your problem," Shuichi replied, turning around with a bitter smile, unshed tears glittering in his eyes, "is that you contradict yourself. How much do you worry about love?"

Eiri narrowed his eyes and looked away, hoping Shuichi would do the same, but the kid merely continued to stare at him. Eiri, however, was not willing to give up and merely froze in his position, refusing to look back at the boy or to speak, placing the burden instead on Shuichi to break the silence. Grudgingly, Shuichi complied, though not with what Eiri would have wished.

"You have to let me live with you."

"What?" Eiri cried, breaking his stance and staring at Shuichi wide-eyed. "What the hell…?"

"It's Sakano's apartment. I don't have anywhere to live now!"

"Well, that's your fault for cheating on your boyfriend, isn't it?"

"It's your fault for tempting me!"

"You're the one who came to me in the first place!"

"You're the one who didn't push me away!"

"How is your lack of self-control my fault?"

"How is your tactlessness mine?"

The two, who had risen to their feet in rage, now fell back to their seats in a huff, Eiri to his chair and Shuichi to the floor.

"How do you argue with someone who has no logic?" Eiri muttered to himself, closing his eyes in frustration and running anxious fingers though his hair. He remained like that for a few moments before addressing Shuichi once again, "How do you expect to live together if we can't even get along just seeing each other like this?"

"It's because you keep pushing me away," Shuichi replied without any thought, as if he had pondered this long and hard previously. "If you would quit that, then I think we could get along. Please, Eiri, just until I find another apartment."

Eiri fell into a long bout of thought, looking deep in concentration with his brow furrowed and his eyes darting back and forth across his hand. Shuichi watched, fearful of interrupting, with his legs pulled up to his chest nervously. He gazed at the blonde in a sort of idolization, as the other pondered quietly.

"Fine," Eiri said at last, the hesitation written clearly in his voice, "but on certain conditions. First, you are to actually look for an apartment; second, you do not bother me _at all_; third, do not tell Sakano that you are living with me. Understood?"

Shuichi nodded eagerly with an excited squeal. He jumped to his feet and immediately began chattering mindlessly, but Eiri quickly tuned him out, falling back into his own thoughts. He knew he would regret this.

TBC

……………

Notes: Ahh, oops. That took me awhile, didn't it? Sorries, sorries. But, this chapter is extra long! Just for you! I hit a rut while writing this; you can probably tell. Sorry. I hope to pick up the pace again soon.

Thank you again for all that reviewed! You're so very encouraging! And, uh, yeah. That's it.

Also, I believe this is the last chapter I'm going to post at I'm sorry, no matter what I do, I cannot get it to upload there correctly (not to mention that site is really slow and I don't believe many people are reading it there). However, I will continue with it at and (see links above) if you want to keep reading it.


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